


Audience of One

by themayqueen



Series: Audience Series [1]
Category: Hanson
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexual Male Character, Drug Use, Gay Male Character, Incest, M/M, Male Slash, Marijuana, Sibling Incest, Slash, Tour Bus, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 83,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor can’t imagine himself ever settling down with just one person; he’s just not that kind of guy. But when Hanson go on tour to promote their fifth album, he meets someone who will challenge not only that, but everything he thinks he knows about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Double Shot

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been posted elsewhere (it was completed over a year ago), but it has just been brought to my attention that none of my chaptered cest stories are on AO3. So, here's one of them.

Even though it was only 10:30am, I had a sinking feeling that not even all the coffee in the world could turn my day around. The only thing I really felt like doing was banging my head against my desk, but at that particular point in time, I couldn’t even find the surface of the desk under all the crap I’d let accumulate on top of it. I glanced around the office, trying to find anything I could use as a weapon. I supposed I could bludgeon myself to death with a guitar. That would probably work.

“Taylor, are you even listening?”

No. “Yes.”

Isaac sighed. “Then what did I say?”

“That you love me and you’re going to go buy me another double shot out of the goodness of your heart?”

Seemed like a perfectly reasonable guess to me, but Isaac only sighed again and wandered off, mumbling something about Robert Schwartzman. That sounded interesting; maybe I should have been listening to him.

You see, our summer tour was set to begin in just over a month. That in and of itself was pretty awesome; our fifth album was doing great and we had even sold out a few concert dates already. The only problem was that we didn’t have an opening act. Apparently, that was a pretty important little detail. All of the bands we had toured with before were busy, it seemed, so our plan that day was to sit in the office and dial every single number we could think of and pray that someone, somewhere, wanted to tour with us.

As of 10:37am, we hadn’t had a single bite.

I decided this was either going to be the best or worst tour ever; it could really go either way. I still had a list of phone numbers on my desk, and absolutely no desire to call any of them. I rummaged around for the list anyway, finally finding it underneath the second latte of the day, a ring of moisture barely starting to obscure the names and numbers. Still, I could make out most of them, and I knew that if I didn’t call at least one, Isaac would never buy a me a double shot ever again.

By 11:47am, I had worked my way down the entire coffee stained list. It was mostly local Tulsa artists, none of whom felt quite up to committing to such a long nationwide tour. I pride myself on being able to convince anyone to do anything I want, but I still couldn’t seem to pull a yes out of anyone.

Just as I wound up to pitch my cell phone into the nearest wall, Zac walked into the room with a dorky smile on his face. He was practically bouncing up and down, so I could only assume he had found us an opening act.

“Well, out with it,” I said, casually lowering my cell phone back onto the desk.

Still bouncing, he replied, “Okay. It’s not for sure yet, but I just talked to Carrick and he thinks they might be able to do the tour.”

“Oh, hell no,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m not spending another three months living inside a giant bong on wheels.”

It didn’t matter how much Zac pouted, I was not budging on touring with Everybody Else again, unless they got a separate bus and kept all of the weed on it. I didn’t really care if Zac smoked up now and then or even every day; I’d be a hypocrite to complain about his one and only vice when I have so many of my own. But when he was with Carrick, they were like a two man, pothead version of the three stooges. If the three stooges had been secretly gay for each other.

Okay, I don’t really have any _proof_ that Zac and Carrick are gay for each other. Carrick pings my gaydar pretty hard, though, and I’m rarely wrong. Zac’s another story. He’s only been with one other man that I’m aware of – and let’s not get into the details of that right now – but none of his girlfriends seem to last very long. The longest relationship he ever had was with Kate, and just as I suspected it would, that fell apart pretty quickly after I dumped her best friend. Zac may not be gay, he may not even be bi, but there are definitely some skeletons in his closet. And I could swear I heard some strange noises coming from the back lounge of the bus one night that did not sound like two dudes playing video games.

Thankfully, Isaac spared me from another second spent imagining my little brother having sex with his stoner boyfriend. He burst into the room, grinning from ear to ear and holding his cell phone out in front of him.

“Guys, I found us an opening act!”

We both stared at him wordlessly, waiting for him to tell us who. Of course Ike had to draw this out and make it into a huge production.

“Okay, you remember that guy we all watched at Southby?” 

“You’re going to have to be far more specific than that,” I replied. The three of us had watched plenty of awesome musicians at SXSW that year; few of them really stuck out in my memory, aside from the ones I had attempted to take back to my room for the night.

“You know the one I mean. Seamus Lane. He’s got a new EP out.”

Unfortunately, he was one of the ones I had attempted to bed. Attempted, and failed. That _never_ happens to me.

I couldn’t even remember the last time I had struck out as horribly as I did with Seamus. I wasn’t always the smoothest when I was drunk, but usually I still ended up taking somebody home. I hadn’t even been that tipsy when I started putting the moves on him, and at first, he had seemed to play along. 

He had a faint Irish accent, even though he had lived in California since he was a teenager, and I couldn’t help being drawn in by the sound of it. His eyes were this ridiculously intense, dark brown – so dark and brooding you could swear he was staring straight into your soul. Maybe that’s why he didn’t take my invitation to leave the party together; he saw me for what I really was. The way he smiled when I pulled back from whispering in his ear made me certain he would say yes, but I was wrong. I don’t like being wrong. I spent the rest of the night at the bar, sulking into my rum and coke, and stealing glances across the room at him.

“So, you can do the first two legs of the tour, right?” Isaac said, snapping me out of my memory and back to the scene at hand.

From the cell phone in front of Ike came Seamus’ distinct, barely lilting voice. “Yeah, definitely. I’d love the chance to go out with you guys.”

I couldn’t help noticing the double meaning in his words, even though I was certain that it had been unintentional. But maybe not. Maybe he was mocking me. I tried to think of any reason at all I could refuse to tour with him; none came to me so readily as the excuse I had given Zac. The fact was, Seamus was a terrific singer and songwriter, and I knew our fans would fall head over heels for the way he practically made love to his guitar. We would have to be insane not to tour with him.

And I had a feeling I would be insane by the time we were finished touring with him.

“Great,” Isaac and Zac answered in tandem. 

The two of them began running Seamus through the details of the tour, and I could have jumped for joy when they finally wandered out of our shared office, leaving me alone. Once again, I felt the undeniable urge to slam my head into the nearest hard surface. And I still didn’t have my damn double shot.


	2. On the Road

Playing the first concert of a new tour is, in an odd way, like coming home. I feel so much more myself out on the road than I do at home. That’s especially true since we moved back to Tulsa. Don’t get me wrong, Tulsa’s a nice place. But it’s not exactly the party capital of the world, which is fine for everyone else. Isaac and Nikki have kids to raise, and Zac was never really into partying anyway, even if he was still single. But me, I’d much rather be back in New York, or maybe out in California. But I’m not. So being on the road, even if we’re working, is heaven for me.

At least, it was usually heaven for me.

This tour, however, I wasn’t looking forward to at all. Ike and Zac had met with Seamus a few weeks ago to iron out the details of the tour, but I managed to come up with some lame excuse to stay home. That was nothing more than a cowardly move on my part to assure that I didn’t have to see him until the very day the tour began.

It wasn’t like this was even the first time I’d put myself into an awkward situation on tour. I was pretty talented at screwing around with opening acts, in fact. It all started years and years ago with Michelle; I thought it was just a tour thing, but it got a little more serious when she recorded a few songs with us the next year. I liked her, sure, but then there were Natalie and Alex, too; I was good, but I wasn’t quite good enough to juggle that many relationships. After that, I made a point of not getting serious at all with the opening acts. Ben was cute and we had great chemistry, but he knew it was over when the tour ended.

Touring with Seamus would no doubt be even more awkward than those two combined. I hadn’t exactly made myself vulnerable with him, but getting shot down at all was rare for me. Maybe he wasn’t even into guys; I didn’t know. That’s the part that killed me. I didn’t understand why it happened, and it was far too embarrassing to considering asking him.

And, unfortunately, we were sharing a tour bus. He’s a low maintenance kind of guy, so he wasn’t even bringing anyone out on the road with him – just one suitcase, two guitars, and himself. So, naturally, Isaac had to offer him that extra bunk we would normally use to store all our crap. Thanks a lot, Ike.

Thanks to the livestream we did on our website and some radio promo stuff, I didn’t actually have to see Seamus for most of that first day on the bus together. We had met up with him in New York, but I pretended to be asleep in my bunk, even though I could hear him and my brothers talking just outside.

Even though it wasn’t really my job, I volunteered to do the requisite coffee run after our soundcheck that afternoon, just to buy myself a little more time outside the venue. This little club in Buffalo was an odd place to start the tour, and it wasn’t nearly close enough to any kind of coffee shop, but here we were. Finally, after wandering the streets for several minutes with my cell phone in hand, I found a Starbucks and placed the list of orders Ike had texted me. Sure, there was plenty of food at the venue, but very few venues could get my complex coffee orders correct. Plus, I really just wanted to get away from the venue while Seamus was warming up.

It didn’t quite work out that way, though. I wandered back, arms loaded down with espresso and milk in all possible combinations, just in time to hear his distinct voice filtering through the venue’s speakers. He strummed a few mindless chords on his guitar as I handed out drinks to everyone backstage. As much as I didn’t want to, as much as I had tried to avoid it, I couldn’t help being drawn out into the venue to watch him.

Seamus was every bit as beautiful as I remembered. He stood alone on the stage, tuning his guitar with his back half-turned to the audience, which consisted of only me. His hair was a little longer than I remembered, close to the style I used to wear. Even though he was only wearing a white tee and ripped jeans, he was still breathtaking; it was his casual, unassuming attitude that made him turn heads.

And, of course, he turned around to find me staring at him.

“Taylor.”

God, my name sounded amazing when he said it. It sounded like _music_.

“Seamus,” I squeaked out. If he sounded like pure fucking music, I sounded like a teenager with laryngitis.

He shrugged his guitar off and sat it down on the stage. I knew what was coming next, and I felt like crawling under my bar stool and hiding. I really couldn’t remember another time when I’d had to confront someone who rejected me; hell, I couldn’t remember last time someone had rejected before Seamus. It seemed to give him this weird, sickening power over me. I didn’t like it. He hoisted himself onto the stool next to me and I could do nothing but stare at him and wish to turn invisible.

“It’s a bit early to start drinking, isn’t it?”

I stared down at my Starbucks cup, fully aware that he was mocking me. After all, I had been drunk the last time he saw me. He wasn’t going to make this tour easy, I realized. I gulped down the last of the unfortunately cold drink, then glanced back up at Seamus, painting on my best fake smile. “You know me. Bit of a lush.”

“I suppose that is one word for you,” Seamus responded with a grin. “So, I didn’t you see this morning.”

“Slept in. It’s odd, but I sleep so well on a tour bus.” It’s also odd how easily I can let those little lies fall off my tongue, but in this case, it’s a skill I was glad to have.

His grin shifted to a more serious look. “I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk, though.”

“You were?” Funny. I wasn’t.

“I wanted to apologize for getting us off on the wrong foot before,” he said. “I know this tour could be really awkward, but I don’t want it to be. It’s a big opportunity for me. So let’s not let some drunken silliness get in the way of having an awesome tour.”

_He_ wanted to apologize to _me_? I didn’t understand at all. I was the one who had obviously made an unwanted advance, but my stupid pride wouldn’t even let me apologize for that. I tried my best to meet his stare and chose my words carefully. “It’s no big deal. No hard feelings.”

It wasn’t an admittance of guilt on my part, nor an acknowledgment of how much he had wounded my pride. But it was the best I could offer him.

“Of course. No hard feelings at all,” he replied with the faintest of grins. “Wouldn’t want that to keep us from being able to enjoy a drink or two together. After all, we’re stuck on that bus for three months. Got to let our hair down sometime, don’t we?”

I nodded, but I still felt like he was mocking me, somehow. Had I actually been dumb enough to hit on a straight guy? He seemed so amused by what had passed between us, and I couldn’t understand it. Was turning down Taylor Hanson’s advances really _that_ funny?

“Taylor,” he said again, and I cringed at the way it seemed to turn my insides to mush. “You don’t need to beat yourself up over it.”

“I’m not.” I was.

He nudged my knee almost playfully. “Everyone strikes out once a while, right? Look, we were both a little drunk and it just wasn’t the ideal situation.”

I nodded, my throat dry. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was trying to tell me, but I knew that somehow, it was supposed to make me feel better. It didn’t.

“Well,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “I should finish up my soundcheck so that you guys can get on with yours. Have a good show, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “You too.”

He stood up and gave me one last smile. I thought that was it and he was going to walk away without another word, but he leaned in close and said, “You know, you might have better luck if you’re sober. Just a thought.”

If I rarely ever strike out, then it’s even less common for me to be speechless. Apparently, though, Seamus was capable of making both of those things happen. I could do nothing but stare helplessly at him as he walked away from me and back to the stage. My desire to watch the rest of his soundcheck vanished, and I scurried backstage while his back was still turned.

Despite me being pathetically distracted, our soundcheck went well enough. I’m sure Zac and Ike noticed something was wrong when I let them pick most of the setlist, but neither one of them commented on it. As much as I hated feeling that way about the first show of the tour, I just wanted to get it over with and go back to my bunk.

When Seamus took the stage, I found I was once again a moth to his flame. I stood by the side of the stage, just close enough that I could see the rise and fall of his back as he strummed his guitar, but far enough back to avoid setting off any ridiculous screams from the audience. He played a few songs I recognized from his set at Southby, before launching into some I didn’t know.

His set was fairly short, culminating with a few rather downbeat songs that he apologized profusely for. After strumming a few idle notes, he leaned into the microphone and said, “Now, this is my last song of the night. It’s a new one from my EP, and I’d love you all forever if you bought a copy. Do enjoy this one.”

_I knew I was never gonna talk to you tomorrow_  
 _And oh, the birds how they sing_  
 _If you were a bird could you sing me a song of sorrow_  
 _‘Cause all I know from you is grief_  
 _But I never wanted to be your rolling train_

_I never wanted to be your dancin’ shoes_  
 _I just wanted you to love me_  
 _I just wanted you to love me _  
 _Touch, feel & lose_  
 _And cry, cry, cry___

_I thought maybe I could be some kind of shelter_  
 _But oh, your storm how it raged_  
 _You know your kisses, they like lightnin’ and thunder_  
 _And your smile is sweet and come down like rain_

_I never wanted to be your dancin’ shoes_  
 _I just wanted you to love me_  
 _I just wanted you to love me_  
 _Touch, feel & lose_  
 _And cry, cry, cry_  
 _I just wanted you to love me, honey_  
 _Cry, cry, cry_

It was yet another downer, but I had to admit I enjoyed it. There was something haunting about it, something that  
crawled under my skin and threatened to completely unnerve me for the rest of the night. That was the absolute last thing I needed on the opening night of the tour.

When Seamus finished playing the song, he thanked the audience and reminded them that the boys they were all there to see would be taking the stage soon. I was still too shell shocked to even move, so within mere seconds he was walking toward me, his eyes on mine as he approached.

His shoulder brushed mine as he passed and I couldn’t dismiss it as unintentional. Leaning in close to my ear, ostensibly because of the noise of the crowd, he said, “Have a good show, Taylor. I’ll see you afterward? Let’s _not_ get a drink this time.”

Wordlessly, I watched him disappear into the darkness of the backstage area. I let out a long sigh as I looked out at the crowd. They were already chanting our name, already on their feet and probably a little drunk themselves. Despite everything else that was going on and distracting me from what I was here for, I couldn’t help feeling oddly settled by the sight. This is where I belonged – on stage, performing. This was my home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics are from Touch, Feel and & Lose by Ryan Adams.


	3. Caffeine and Bacon

We drove right on to Massachusetts that night, and I continued my cowardly routine of hiding from Seamus at all costs. I used the excuse of extreme tiredness to go back to the bus as soon as possible, and spent the night hiding in my bunk. Even over the din of Zac’s video game, I could hear Seamus telling some story – god only knows what – and making everyone laugh, but I absolutely would not leave my bunk under any circumstances.

My plan of hiding quickly unraveled, though. Somewhere past Albany, we stopped to fuel up and eat a greasy truck stop breakfast. I didn’t want to leave my bunk even then, despite the need for caffeine gnawing at my brain. By the time Isaac came and flung back the curtain on my bunk, the caffeine addiction had won out.

I mumbled something to Ike that seemed to convince him I was on my way, then stumbled out of the bunk. I had taken a shower before we left the venue, but I had fallen into the bunk still wearing my jeans. I didn’t really care, though, that my clothes were wrinkled and my hair was probably sticking up in a million directions.

Seamus, of course, looked fantastic. Who _does_ that at 7am? Seamus Lane, that’s who.

Once again, he caught me staring. It’s not like the bus was that big; as soon as he turned around, there I was, shamelessly checking him out. But he smiled, and this time, it didn’t seem like he was mocking me. Maybe it was too early for him to turn on the snark. Whatever the reason for it, I was glad. I even managed to return his smile with one that I hoped seemed genuine as well.

That was enough Seamus for my morning, though. I mumbled something about caffeine, dug my wallet out of the bag I’d carelessly thrown onto the couch the night before, and hurried off the bus before he found his snark.

When you’ve spent as much time as I have on the road, you really start to appreciate a good truck stop. Sketchy ones, with sticky bathrooms and truckers leering at you – yes, even at me – are a dime a dozen. The good ones are rare. This? This was a good one. It had a big coffee bar and a McDonald’s attached, so I could satisfy my need for both caffeine _and_ bacon. Once I had paid for what looked to be a very strong cup of joe (and an energy shot, just in case), I made for the McDonald’s and was soon holed up in a corner booth with the least healthy bagel known to man.

I was in heaven. At least, I would have been in heaven if Seamus hadn’t sudden materialized in front of my booth and slid into the seat across from me.

“You left before I could say good morning.”

“Sorry,” I replied as genuinely as I could manage. With a little caffeine in my system, it was surprisingly easy to fake it. “In a hurry to get my breakfast.”

“Seems your drinking habit is always coming between us,” Seamus said, his lips turning up in a grin. So the snark wasn’t gone after all. Fantastic.

I could have responded in kind. I could have been flirty. I could have done anything, really, but what did I do? Stuffed half my bagel in my mouth and pretended Seamus wasn’t sitting right across from me.

“Impressive,” he said.

I coughed and sputtered, but some managed to swallow down the last bit of bagel and washed it down with a slug of coffee. Out of options, aside from getting up and running, I stared Seamus down and said, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

He grinned. “That’s what I was counting on.”

Seamus was flirting with me. He was fucking flirting with me. What was his deal anyway? Months after turning me down, here he was flirting with me like it was nothing at all. It made no sense to me. Okay, maybe I was flirting back. But he started it.

“Everything alright in there, Taylor?”

He really needed to stop saying my name like that. If he said it again, I wouldn’t be able to control my actions. I’d probably drop down under that booth and go down on him right then and there. That may say more about how pathetic and shameless I am than about how fucking beautiful he sounds when he says my name, though.

“Taylor?”

Damn it all to hell.

Mustering up every bit of self control I had, I snapped myself out of that daze and stared back at him. “Yes? I’m here.”

“Just checking,” he replied. “You know, I feel like things still aren’t all that comfortable between us.”

Oh, so it isn’t just me? “Really?”

He nodded. “Really. Maybe I didn’t explain myself well enough yesterday.”

I sipped my coffee and eyed him, waiting for him to finally do so. Despite any attempts to act nonchalant, I was on pins and needles waiting for his explanation.

“It isn’t that I wasn’t interested in you, Taylor,” he replied.

“It isn’t?”

He shook his head, seemingly amused that I hadn’t realized that on my own. “No. You were drunk. I was drunk. And I don’t do one night stands – drunk or sober. It’s just not me.”

“That’s understandable,” I replied. And it was, even if it was the exact opposite of my own policy. I thrived on one night stands – they were practically as essential to my life as caffeine and bacon.

“Good,” he said. “I’m not naïve, you know. I knew what you were after. Shame it isn’t the same thing I’m after.”

“Well.” So he had seen me for what I really was. Was I that obvious or did my reputation just precede me? “Like I said yesterday, no hard feelings?”

“Of course not. We’re just different creatures, that’s all. I’m sure someday I’ll find someone who can handle settling down with a musician. And someday, perhaps, you’ll find that you do want to settle down after all. Stranger things have happened, right?”

I couldn’t think of any.

“I would honestly like to be your friend, Taylor. You can do friendship, right?”

His tone seemed mocking, still, but his face showed that it was a sincere question. I decided it deserved a sincere answer. “Of course. I can do friendship.”

And I could. Probably.

****

With our caffeine addictions sated and the bus fueled up, we hit the road again, heading on to Hyannis for our first hotel stop of the tour. For the first few hours, I even made good on my promise to be friends with Seamus. I sat in the front of the bus with him and Isaac, discussing music and touring as casually and friendly as I possibly could.

I barely even flirted. For me, that really should be considered an accomplishment.

Days off, on tour, are rarely ever truly days off. Usually, they’re scheduled on purpose for the times when we have extra long drives to make. Once the driving is done, there’s usually some sort of work to be done or we’re too exhausted to even enjoy the fact that there isn’t any work to do. This day was mostly the latter.

Somehow, I got volunteered to do a phone interview that afternoon, so while everyone else headed out to explore the city, I was holed up in my hotel room with my cell phone glued to my ear. I didn’t really mind. After spending the entire morning socializing, a little “me time,” even if it did involve yet another interview, sounded just perfect.

It sounded so perfect, in fact, that I didn’t even leave my hotel room for the rest of the day, except for quick trip across the street for coffee and a sandwich. The rest of the afternoon and evening I spent watching mindless television, surfing the internet and generally being lazy. I didn’t often get to indulge myself like that, and I certainly didn’t take it for granted.

Unfortunately, it seemed that all I could think about all day was Seamus.

I just didn’t understand him at all. His words made sense, but they didn’t say the same thing as his actions. More than that, I couldn’t understand the effect it was all having on me – the effect _he_ was having on me. I wanted to believe that it was just because I wasn’t used to being turned down, but it was becoming more and more difficult to convince myself.

He was beautiful, talented and a giant flirt – but so what? I had met plenty of guys who fit that bill and very rarely did the butterflies they gave me last longer than the night. I’d had no reason to think that Seamus would be any different, until I saw him again. As much as I wanted to fight it, I knew what that meant. And I didn’t like it one bit.

I, Jordan Taylor Hanson, had a crush. A fucking crush.

I didn’t do crushes. At least, I didn’t think I did. My last crush had ended with me, well, crushed. So I learned not to give into those stupid butterflies and not to believe that things could actually work out. Being in love didn’t make the world conform to your wishes. It just didn’t. And if it couldn’t do that, if it couldn’t actually improve your life in any way, then what was the point?

I had long ago stopped seeing the point in even thinking about falling in love.

Seamus didn’t seem so jaded, though. In a way, I envied him. It must have been nice to think that love would someday happen and that when it did, it would be a good thing. I wasn’t oblivious to the implication that he hoped I would someday believe the same thing. But he was only setting himself up for heartbreak if he thought he could win me over.

By that evening, I was starting to feel pretty pathetic for making like a hermit in my room all day. I was feeling too lazy to even leave to get dinner. There was an easy solution to that, though. Even the dinkiest hotels in the world – and we had certainly stayed at a few of those – always put a flyer or two for pizza delivery in the room. A quick glance around yielded results; I didn’t even care that Little Caesar’s was far from gourmet if they would deliver right to the hotel lobby.

A few minutes later, with my meat lovers pizza ordered, I forced myself to put on shoes and head toward the lobby. I pulled my hat down low on my head as I waited for the elevator; I knew it was a little silly – surely there wouldn’t be any fans lurking around this late – but it was a reflex born out of years and years of screaming girls following my every move.

There were no screaming girls in this hotel, though. Just one gorgeous man lounging in a chair in the lobby. If he hadn’t been there first, I would have accused him of stalking me.

“Going out?”

I shook my head, sitting down in the chair opposite his. “Waiting for a pizza delivery.”

“Ah, we had the same idea, then,” he replied with a wide grin.

I didn’t have to ask what he meant by that, because as soon as he said it, I saw a delivery guy approaching with what looked suspiciously like two pizza boxes. Seamus followed my gaze and jumped up to cut the guy off before I could react. I couldn’t hear their exchange, but I didn’t need to; seconds later, he was walking back toward me with both boxes and the delivery guy was walking out the door.

Seamus grinned at me, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Well? Shall we, then?”

“We?” I asked, staring up at him.

“Well, here’s the deal,” he said. “If you’d like to have your pizza, and I assume you do, you’ll just have to come to my room. Call it a trade – pizza for friendly company. Come on, I’m all alone up there.”

I didn’t buy his pathetic pout for one second. It was cute, though. And I couldn’t very well argue with the guy holding my pizza hostage. Seeing no real way out, unless I sacrificed my dinner, I stood up and gave Seamus a smile. “Alright, then. Your room.”


	4. Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me

It’s a well known fact that I have absolutely no shame.

So it should come as no surprise at all that I couldn’t help staring at Seamus’ ass as I followed him toward the elevator. I tried to stop myself, I really did, but sometimes my libido has a mind of its own. And right then, the only thing on that mind was Seamus – and his ass in those ripped jeans he always wore.

If he noticed, he didn’t say a word. The elevator ride to his room was quiet and a little bit uncomfortable. I couldn’t help wondering what it was he really wanted from me. He made it sound friendly, but he knew what kind of guy I was. Did he really think he could invite me to his hotel room and not inspire at least a few impure thoughts in my mind?

He _was_ flirting, though. There was no doubting that, especially when he brushed against my chest as he leaned over me to press the button for our floor. And I thought _I_ was a touchy feely person. Seamus was far worse.

That’s exactly why I couldn’t help letting my hands linger on his when I took the pizzas from him so that he could dig his key card out of his pocket. After all, two could play that game. And, apparently, his next move was to wiggle his ass – you know, because that makes it easier to pull those stubborn key cards free.

“There we are,” he said with a grin, waving the card in my face before sliding it through the lock. He made a show of holding the door open for me, grinning wider when our bodies brushed in the doorway. “Now, I’ve got a few beers in the mini fridge, if you’d like one. Or I can grab some sodas from the vending machine. Your call.”

“Beer is good,” I said with a shrug, setting the pizzas down on the bed that didn’t look slept in.

Once again, I found myself staring at his ass as he bent down to retrieve two beers from the fridge. There was no way he wasn’t doing that on purpose – not that I minded, of course. This time I was at least prepared enough to avert my eyes before he turned around and caught me.

I was still sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed when he approached, a beer in each hand. I could see him debating where to go, especially since me and the pizza were occupying the largest part of the extra bed. In the end, he walked right by me and laid back, resting against the headboard as though he was perfectly unaware of me at the foot of the bed. What could I do then but slide back and lean against the headboard next to him?

He gave me a grin and passed my beer to me, then reached for the pizza boxes. “Meat lovers? Should have figured.”

I rolled my eyes while he wasn’t looking. He was really pushing it a little too far with all of the teasing, but he was gorgeous enough for me to let him get away with it. For now. I grabbed a slice of pizza and make a big show out of how much I enjoyed the first, rather sizable, bite. Seamus only shook his head and opened his own box of sad, meatless pizza.

With a slice of pizza in one hand and his beer tucked between his legs, Seamus grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels. The selection at this particular hotel was pretty sad, but I wasn’t even sure if I was really there to watch a movie or _watch a movie_.

He flipped through the channels for ages, making subtle little noises – slight laughs, snorts of disapproval – at each new show or movie. I barely had time to even register what was on the screen before he’d flitted off to something new. Finally, with a little sigh, he settled on a movie.

The screen was black except for a pair of blood red lips. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes a little, but I didn’t say a word. I didn’t even speak when he started to sing. I did, however, stare.

“Science Fiction – Double Feature, Dr. X will build a creature…” He trailed off when he noticed my stare. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never seen this.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it. I’ve definitely seen it,” I replied, grabbing another slice of pizza to shut myself up.

What I didn’t feel like telling Seamus was that I had first watched Rocky Horror with Alex. I was just eighteen at the time, and fairly innocent still, despite all the trouble I had gotten into during our tour the year before that. During our summer spent in Los Angeles recording, Alex and I were together almost every night, just talking and sometimes drinking or smoking. Rocky Horror was just the beginning of all the things Alex introduced me to that summer.

For a few years, I watched Rocky Horror every so often to relive that summer. It brought back all the good memories and none of the bad; as long as the movie was on, I could forget that I’d had to say goodbye to Alex. It gave me hope. And for a few years, we were able to occasionally relive it all together, whenever our paths crossed. Eventually our paths crossed less and less, then never at all. Since then, Rocky Horror only brought back the bad memories.

Seamus didn’t know any of that, of course.

I offered to grab the second round of beers, just to give myself any kind of distraction at all. Naturally, that didn’t last long, and I was soon forced to resume watching the movie. Seamus seemed to be off in his own world, gleefully singing and chanting at the screen as he devoured his pizza and beer.

Can I just state, for the record, that under normal circumstances, an entire large pizza and three beers is not what I would consider a balanced dinner?

But what else can a guy really do when there’s a gorgeous Irishman singing Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me on the bed next to you? Besides, of course, touch him. Which I was trying really, really hard _not_ to do.

“I wanna feel –” he crooned in my ear, then paused and stared at me. “You’re not enjoying this, are you? I’d have thought this was right to your taste.”

“Do I really seem _that_ flaming?”

He smirked. “You’re asking the guy you tried to seduce while wearing white jeans and a scarf if you seem flaming.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “It’s not that I don’t like the movie.”

It’s that I hate it.

“It’s my company, then,” Seamus offered. “I’m sorry I insisted on us hanging out.”

I shook my head a bit too earnestly. “No. It’s not you. That’s such a line, but it isn’t. This movie just reminds me of someone I’d like to forget.”

“You mean you don’t forget them all by the morning?” He asked, nudging me playfully.

“I didn’t forget you.” The words came flying out of my mouth all on their own, completely unplanned. I had wanted to refute his suggestion that I was a whore, although god knows I’d never minded being called one before. Somehow, I’d not only done that but also implied that Seamus meant something to me.

His smile wavered for a moment, but the change was almost quick enough to miss. “You also didn’t get me in bed. Until now.”

I was really getting tired of all his double entendres. I couldn’t even tell if that wass one of them though; there’s a very good chance it was just a single entendre. Either way, I had no idea what to make of it. Normally, I’d answer him with some equally dirty, but I’m not sure that’s the friendly thing to do.

But I never claimed to be good at the friendship thing.

“That’s true,” I replied, inching my way closer to him, my leg rubbing against his. “But now that I do have you in bed, I suppose the question is… what am I going to do with you?”

Seamus tilted his head to the side, seemingly in thought. “You know, technically, I’ve got _you_ in bed. So I don’t think that’s the question at all.”

“In that case, what are _you_ going to do with _me_?”

As we passed this mindless banter back and forth, we each edged closer and closer together. By the time I asked the last question, I had all but climbed into his lap. I watched the way Seamus’ chest rose and fell, his face close enough that each exhale tickled my skin. His breathing got harder and harder, and I could feel mine do the same.

He chuckled softly and the feeling of it, his breath warm against my face, made me tremble. “Give you some better memories to associate with this movie, I suppose.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Even though our faces were barely inches away, it still seemed to take him ages to finally close the distance between us and press his lips to mine. He wasn’t gentle or forceful; just very firm and determined. It suited him, I thought, and it turned me on. I scrambled into his lap, shamelessly straddling him and sinking my teeth into his bottom lip.

“Easy, tiger,” he said, chuckling against my lips. “We’ve got all tour.”

I pulled back and stared into his eyes, pleading silently with my own. I was not a patient person, and just the little taste I had gotten of Seamus was nowhere near enough; I wanted him every night for the rest of the tour. His eyes darted from mine to my lips, and I could practically see his internal struggle between what he said he wanted and what he really wanted. That hesitation gave me an opening, and I would have been a fool not to take it. I leaned forward again, latching onto his bottom lip and sucking on it.

“Taylor…” he mumbled. It wasn’t a complete thought, I could tell, but whatever else was on his mind seemed to get caught somewhere between there and his mouth.

I paid him no mind, though. My tongue made its way into his mouth again, determined to keep him from protesting any more. Seamus could claim he wanted to slow down, but I could still feel his dick pressing up against me – he wanted it just as much as I did.

Suddenly, he seemed to give up the internal struggle, and in a matter of seconds the balance of power had shifted. He flipped me over onto my back as easily as if I were a ragdoll. I might seem to play the submissive role in bed, but I don’t actually like giving up control. Still, I couldn’t argue with the way he was grinding against me and raking my shirt up over my head.

My hands grasped pathetically at his shirt, my fists clutching at the material and hoping he got the hint. He did, sitting up just enough to pull the thin white tee over his shoulders. I didn’t like being apart for even that amount of time, so I grabbed his hips roughly, pulling him back down on top of me. Seamus chuckled again, but didn’t object. He pressed his lips to mine again and I couldn’t stop myself from sighing against him.

It’s not exactly a secret that I love sex. I don’t care whether it’s with a guy or a girl – also not a secret. I don’t think there’s even one particular type that I prefer; I’m open to any hair color, body type, or anything. But there’s something about a guy, especially one as gorgeous as Seamus, that absolutely makes my head spin. We were barely even doing anything bad, just our naked chests pressed together, and I was already having trouble remembering to breathe.

And when his hand somehow managed to slide past the waistband of pants and wrap around my cock? Well, then I was just torn between hyperventilating and being seriously impressed. They weren’t my tightest jeans, but they were still snug enough that I didn’t know how the hell Seamus found the room to jerk me off the way he was. I scrambled for the button and zipper, desperate for more of Seamus’ touch.

That earned me yet another chuckle, but he didn’t object. He also didn’t object when I rolled our bodies over and made quick work of removing his pants and underwear. I rarely bothered with underwear – especially in those tight pants – so in just a matter of seconds we were both naked. It felt _wonderful_.

His simple wardrobe hid just how muscular he was, and seeing it now made my mouth water. I wrapped my legs tightly around one of his strong thighs, and ground myself against him. He returned the motion in kind, his impressively thick cock pressing against my thigh.

I don’t know if it was the pent up sexual tension the two of us shared or what, but I’m ashamed to say that we didn’t make it much farther than that. When he tugged on my hair and sunk his teeth into my neck, I was done for. I ground against him even harder, too in love with the heat spreading through my body to care about making it last.

Seamus’ breath hitched and his fingernails grazed my scalp, and I knew he was just as I close I was. His flesh was searing hot against mine and the moan he gave when he came was just what I needed to push me over the edge. He pulled me in for one more kiss, nipping at my tongue as I rode out my orgasm against his thigh.

When my body stopped shaking and I stopped seeing stars, I peeled myself off of him and trudged to the bathroom. I grabbed a towel from the sink and cleaned myself up. Setting the towel back down, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. For some reason, I didn’t like what I saw. I didn’t look any different than usual, but something still _felt_ different. I couldn’t explain it.

If I could have stayed in the bathroom all night, I would have. But that was irrational, so I sucked it up and walked back out into the hotel room. Seamus had already cleaned himself up, it seemed, and he lay on the bed in his boxers, staring up at the ceiling.

With little more than a nod in his direction, I grabbed my jeans from the floor and began to pull them back on. My legs still shook and I hoped he didn’t notice.

“Taylor.”

I raised my head slowly. Seamus met my eyes and it only made my legs shake more and threaten to completely give out. “Yeah?”

“Stay the night.”


	5. Morning After Person

I woke up to a very strange feeling – an arm draped across my stomach. My eyes adjusted slowly to the late morning sunlight streaming in the window. I knew I was in a hotel and I knew I was sober; that was more than I knew on some mornings. I traced the arm back to its owner and the night before came flooding back to my memory.

Seamus, of course.

Some people, attractive or not, just did not look good when they slept. Naturally, Seamus was not one of those people. I was beginning to think there was nothing at all he could do wrong. His dark hair was draped over his eyes, and I had to resist the urge to brush it aside so that I could see more of his face.

I didn’t want to wake him. I knew it was cowardly of me, or maybe just _typical_ of me, but I wanted nothing more than to sneak out of his room before he woke up and saw me. I never spent the night. It gave people the wrong idea, and walk of shame wasn’t a good look on me. It didn’t even matter that this walk of shame was only two doors down, I still dreaded it. But it had to be done.

I wiggled out of his grasp slowly and carefully, inching free without touching him at all. My clothes were scattered around the room – jeans here, shirt there, shoes by the door. I gathered them as quietly as possible, slipping into them with a gracefulness I didn’t even know I had. Maybe it was the fear of Seamus waking up that gave me sudden ninja skills; whatever it was, I was thankful for it.

My wallet and phone were still tucked into my jeans pocket, somehow. With one last look to make sure he really was still asleep – he was – I opened the door and slipped out. The hallway was empty, and within seconds I was on the other side of the door to my room. Somehow, I had made my escape.

And somehow, it didn’t make me feel better.

I leaned back against the door, banging the back of my head gently against it. What the hell was wrong with me? Some stupid part of my brain was screaming at me to run back to Seamus, climb back into his bed, and wrap my arms around him. I didn’t understand it. Where could that desire have possibly come from? I knew I was crushing on him, but it was only a crush, barely more than sexual attraction.

Or was it?

It didn’t matter, though. I had left him alone in bed. Going back would have only made me look like even more of a fool. I had no choice but to play it cool and pretend that the night had meant nothing to me. It might hurt him – hell, it might hurt _me_ – but I didn’t see any other way out of the mess my libido had gotten me into.

Someday I would learn to control that thing, I thought. That day clearly had not come yet.

With a long sigh, I peeled myself from the back of the door and walked toward the bathroom, determined to shower off any remaining evidence of my night with Seamus. I was sure Isaac or someone would feel the need to comment on me showering so early on in a tour – I had the habit of just forgetting things like hygiene when I was running on a tour high – but I didn’t care. I really didn’t want to go through that day smelling like sex and Seamus’ cologne.

I knew we didn’t have anything to do that day, aside from soundcheck and the concert itself, so I didn’t see any particular need to hurry through my shower. I took my sweet time washing my hair and scrubbing off the physical and metaphorical traces of the night before. When I was finished, I took even longer choosing an outfit for the day and carefully packing up the clothes and things I had brought into the hotel.

Yes, I was stalling. No, I did not care.

Once I could find no more reason to stall, I threw my duffel bag over my shoulder, tucked my laptop under my arm and headed for the front desk. I knew we were all supposed to meet there for breakfast. It wasn’t especially early, but I was pretty sure the hotel would still be serving continental breakfast; therefore, I did not consider myself late.

As it happens, I was early. I’m pretty sure that was a complete first. And from the looks of things, Seamus was an early kind of person, too.

He sat at one of the high top tables, overlooking the street, slowly sipping a cup of coffee. I could see that he had a few pastries on his plate as well, but it didn’t look like he had eaten any of them. I rarely turned down food, but at that moment, I didn’t feel very hungry either. I took my time pouring myself a cup of coffee, instead, and skipped right over the table of pastries and little boxes of cereal.

The room was practically deserted, probably because breakfast was nearly over, so I knew I would look pathetic if I sat anywhere other than with Seamus. Seeing no way out of it, I bit the bullet, gave him the tiniest of smiles – it was really all I could manage – and walked across the room to join him at his table for two.

“Sleep well?” He asked, barely peeking over his coffee at me.

I nodded and took a sip of my own. I wished I could say I hadn’t, but the truth was, I had slept so comfortably and peacefully that I didn’t even wake up once until the morning. With my caffeine and nicotine habits combined, that was a rare feat. Seamus couldn’t know that, though, so I was alone in reading too much into it.

“I wasn’t surprised that you were gone when I woke up.”

I nearly spit out my sip of coffee. “You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“Don’t really see the point,” Seamus replied. “And I don’t see why you have so much trouble talking to me at all.”

I didn’t, either. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. I did see it; I just really, really didn’t want to see it. If I could bury my head in the sand forever to avoid seeing my crush on Seamus, I would. Unfortunately, he would still see me – and no doubt the crush, too. My inner ostrich won out, though, and I took the easy road. A lie. “I’m just not a morning person, that’s all.”

“No, you’re not a morning _after_ person. Bit of a difference.”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” I replied, hopping down off my seat far less gracefully than I would have liked.

“No, you don’t,” Seamus said. “But you are.”

I picked up my coffee and the bags I’d slung over the back of the chair. “I was. Bit of a difference.”

“Oh good, you’re already up.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know those words had come from Isaac. But I did turn around, and saw that he was walking quickly toward me. Through the glass doors of the hotel restaurant, I could see Zac, Muff and Bex hauling their luggage across the lobby. Great. Everyone was there to witness my argument with Seamus.

Or, they could witness nothing at all. I could stop it. I picked up my coffee so quickly that a few drops sloshed out on the table and I didn’t even care. “Actually, I’m going right back to sleep. In my bunk. See you guys later.”

I didn’t give either of them a chance to say another word before I was gone; I was, in fact, that much of a coward. I mumbled a hello in Zac’s general direction as I passed him shoving his bag into the storage compartment under the bus, but otherwise, I ignored the entire world until I was safely on the bus.

Once there, I downed the rest of my coffee in record time and prayed it wouldn’t keep me from getting a little bit more sleep in my bunk. I had a feeling it would, though, but that’s why iPods were invented – to help you pretend to be asleep so as to avoid the guy you dry humped the night before and are still stuck on a bus with for three months.

Not even the prospect of playing a show that night made my life at that moment sound any better.


	6. Tequila

I completely ignored Seamus that night _and_ the next night in Cohasset. I would have been perfectly content to ignore him for the rest of the tour, but let’s be reasonable here; there’s only so long you can ignore someone who sleeps six feet away from you and has a bad habit of walking around the bus in nothing but his underwear.

I mean, who could really blame me for staring?

He had this even more annoying habit of being the first person to wake up in the morning, too, and he lured me out of my bunk with the sweet smell of coffee percolating. Why he felt the need to make coffee in nothing but black silk boxers, I’ll never know. I’ll also never complain. I blame the lack of caffeine in my system for my delayed reaction when he turned and caught me blatantly ogling his ass.

If I were making a list a horrible ways to start the day, getting caught staring at the opening act’s ass would rank very, very high.

That morning was probably the first time since age thirteen that I actually turned down coffee. I didn’t even give him the chance to offer, just turned on my heel and walked right back to my bunk and didn’t emerge until Bex started yelling that we were finally at the hotel.

It just seemed safer for everyone involved if I continued to ignore him, and so I did exactly that for the rest of the day, and the better part of the next day. Someone decided to schedule a day off despite the fact that our next show wasn’t even two hours away. Normally, I would have been happy about the chance to explore a little bit of Philly – it wasn’t one of my favorite cities, but it was alright – but that night I felt much more inclined to stay in my hotel room like a hermit.

Naturally, the universe just didn’t see fit to let that happen. And it sent Isaac as its messenger. Typical.

Against my better judgment, I let him talk me into joining him at some bar just down the street from our hotel. He assured me it would just be a low key thing; just me, him, Will, Demetrius and a few beers.

He lied.

Not entirely, of course. It was indeed a low key sort of place and Will and Demetrius were already sitting at the bar when we walked in. Ike’s lie was a lie of omission; specifically, he failed to mention that Seamus would be there as well. I shouldered my way through the crowd and straight to the bar, ordering a double shot of tequila breathlessly, as though my life depended on it.

Ike ordered a Newcastle and a shot of Maker’s Mark – playing it safe, but not too safe. The other three boys already had a few beers in front of them, and they all shot me disbelieving looks as I knocked back those two shots. It looked like I was going to be the only one doing any serious drinking.

That is, until Seamus caught the bartender’s attention and ordered two shots of tequila for himself. He downed them quickly, his eyes flickering to mine as he sets the empty glasses back down on the bar. It almost seemed like a challenge.

Well. This was going to get interesting.

I couldn’t even tell you what the other guys did after that. It became all about me and Seamus, and our quest to drink each other under the table. For every shot or drink I order, he ordered just the same. At some point Ike sidled up from god knows where and told me that he was heading back to get some sleep. A quick look around revealed that Will and Demetrius, too, were long gone.

But I was just getting started.

Without our hands full of the newest round – I couldn’t have even told you what number it was – the two of us made our way to a booth in the back. To my surprise, he slid in right next to me rather than across from me. I wasn’t going to complain, though. When he threw an arm over my shoulder, I thought the smell of his cologne alone, let alone his touch on my skin, might be enough to make me pass out. My vision blurred for a moment, then came back into focus right as he lifted the shot glass to my lips.

It almost seemed like he was trying to get me shitfaced. But why would he do that, when he had complained about how drunk I was the night we met? None of it made any sense, and I wasn’t even sure if that was because it _actually_ didn’t make sense or because I was, in fact, shitfaced.

Once the last few shots were emptied, I leaned heavily against Seamus’ shoulder and sighed. I knew it was probably getting late, and I should have been anywhere else, doing anything else but practically cuddling with this boy in public. Thanks to all that tequila – and rum and probably some vodka, too – I really didn’t care.

“You’re alright, you know,” Seamus said, his eyes glassy but his words surprisingly clear.

I shrugged. I didn’t feel alright. I felt drunk and fucking _horny_. One of those problems could only be solved with time and coffee, but the other one… well, I thought Seamus was a nice solution for it.

It’s funny how a little – okay, a lot – of liquor had me completely abandoning my plan to ignore him. I couldn’t really even remember why I had wanted to steer clear of the gorgeous man who seemed quite content to sit here with me and do nothing at all. Where was the fun in that, though? We weren’t even drinking anymore.

“Seamus,” I said, giving him the puppy dog eyes I knew no one could refuse. “Care to get the next round? Since you’re blocking my way to the bar.”

“Oh, I’d say we’ve had enough,” he replied, only the faintest twinkle in his eyes.

I pouted and he only chuckled. I didn’t find that very amusing, but I wasn’t really in a position to argue with him. At that point, with that much alcohol in me, I would have clung to the first guy – or girl, on some nights – who showed me any interest. While Seamus wasn’t exactly showing interest, he _had_ just said I was alright, and that was a good enough compliment for me.

He pulled his arm back, causing me to pout even more, and stood up. With his hand out, he said, “Come on. Let’s get back to the hotel.”

Now there was an even better suggestion than more alcohol. I accepted his hand, mostly because I needed the help to lift myself out of the booth and onto my legs, not because I really wanted to walk through some bar holding his hand. As soon as I was positive I wasn’t going to collapse, I let my hand slip from his and settled for just following close behind him as he wound through the crowd.

You ever notice how, when you’re drunk, all those transitional moments – walking back to your hotel and talking the hot Irishman into staying in your room, for example – just race by in a blur that doesn’t stick in your memory? Yeah.

I snapped back to reality, more or less, right before falling into the unmade bed and beckoning Seamus to join me. He kicked his shoes off as he crossed the room, a strange look of amusement on his face. I wiggled out of my shoes and jeans all in one surprisingly smooth move. Seamus left his one clothes on, but joined me on the bed just the same.

“I’m afraid you’re going to be terribly disappointed tonight, Taylor,” he said, pulling the covers over us.

“I highly doubt that.” My eyes traveled up and down his body as I said it. Disappointed? In him? Not likely.

He chuckled. “I’m not going to sleep with you, Taylor. You’re absolutely trashed.”

“I seem to recall you drinking, too.”

“Irish,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s an awful stereotype, but I think it’s safe to say I can hold my liquor better than most. Better than you, at least.”

Well, I couldn’t argue with that, especially considering the fact that I could see at least two of Seamus swimming around in front of my eyes. I tried desperately to remember why I thought drinking with him was a good idea, and I drew an absolute blank. Since I had already made one bad decision, and had nothing to say, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to heap another bad decision on top of it. So, I leaned in and kissed him.

“Taylor,” he mumbled against my lips, sending delicious vibrations through my body.

“Yeah?” I replied, barely even pausing to take a breath before kissing him again.

He pulled back and stared in my eyes. “We’re not going to do this.”

“Fine.” I didn’t even care that you could practically hear the pout in my words, and I _really_ didn’t care how childish it was to turn my back on him.

“Taylor,” he sighed. “Why are you so keen on making this happen? You know it won’t work. We don’t want the same things.”

“You don’t know what I want.” Again, I didn’t care how pathetic and childish I was being. It was allowed; I was drunk.

“No, I suppose I don’t. I know that what you _don’t_ want is a relationship, but I don’t know why that is.”

I sighed loudly and shoved my head into the pillow. This was not a conversation I wanted to have with Seamus, drunk or sober. Still, I found myself mumbling, “Relationships don’t work. They just _hurt_.”

“Well, what do you know? Taylor Hanson actually has emotions.”

“I didn’t say that I did.”

Seamus chuckled. “You didn’t have to. If relationships hurt, as you said, they must hurt _something_. Your emotions, or just your ego?”

I really didn’t appreciate how clever he seemed to think he was. I crossed my arms over my chest and ignored him, hoping that soon enough he would think I had passed out.

I was not, of course, that lucky. His fingers danced up my arm, tracing invisible patterns. “I would genuinely like to know. I’m curious about you and how you became… well, you. But I suppose you’ve got all tour to tell me.”

“Or I could never tell you. That’s also an option,” I replied, though I could feel my frustration with him fading.

“It is. But I hope it’s not the one you choose.”

And the frustration was back. “Why do you care?”

“I suppose you intrigue me,” he said, as though he hadn’t given much thought to his reasoning until questioned about it. “Do I need a reason? It just seems to me that you’re suffering, and I have a heart. Simple as that.”

“Right,” I replied, wishing I _had_ passed out by now. “Well, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s fine. Whenever you do, if you ever do, I’ll be here. Well, at least for the duration of the tour.”

I sighed into the pillow again and began to seriously consider counting sheep. Not that that had ever put me to sleep before, but I supposed it was worth a try. Anything was better than staying awake, listening to Seamus being sappy and weird. I had just begun to feel myself drifting off when he ran a hand through my hair.

“Since you probably won’t remember anything tomorrow, this would be a good time to tell you some bad news.”

I didn’t really want to answer him, but I was nearly awake again, so what the hell? “What is it?”

“I think I kind of like you.”


	7. Hangovers

When I was younger, I could go out drinking every night of a tour and wake up no worse for the wear. Sure, I might need an extra espresso or two to make it to the show, but hangovers were like unicorns. I knew what they were, but I was doubtful that they actually existed.

Now that I’m in my late twenties – ugh – I’m still doubtful about unicorns, but hangovers are most definitely real.

My head throbbed before I even lifted it from the pillow, and it felt like someone had glued my body to the bed. When I realized I was alone, though, I pulled myself up quickly in spite of all the pain screaming through my body. I thought leaving the morning after was my thing, not Seamus’. Yet, he was gone.

We hadn’t even done anything for him to be ashamed of, besides a rather inspired karaoke version of some country song we didn’t know the lyrics to that just happened to be playing in the bar. I had kissed him first; I remembered that clearly. But nothing happened after that aside from some boring talk, the particulars of which hadn’t clung to my memory.

So, what the hell was his deal?

I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, though. Thanks to the hangover, I suppose, I slept in far later than I was supposed to. Even though our concert isn’t until the evening, we’re due at the venue early in the afternoon for a walk. So I drug myself through the shower to get rid of the lingering tequila and cigarette smoke smell and threw on the first pair of jeans and t-shirt I pulled from my suitcase. It wasn’t much of a look – white jeans and a black tee – but it would have to do. I had a sneaking suspicion that a certain Irishman would be avoiding me, anyway, so I didn’t really care what I looked like.

My first stop on the bus, once I had stored my bags, was the portable coffee maker. On hangover mornings – really, any mornings – it was my best friend. I wasn’t purposely trying to ignore anyone; I was just far more focused on getting some coffee mixed in with the leftover alcohol in my bloodstream.

Seamus, however, was most definitely ignoring me. If I hadn’t heard soft breathing from his bunk, I would have thought we had left him back at the hotel. I didn’t disturb him, though. If he wanted to be left alone and to pretend we hadn’t shared a bed and a single, boring kiss, then so be it. I knew when to let things go.

He stayed in his bunk all day, not even emerging when we stopped to fuel up and eat lunch at some little gas station not too far from the venue. It was starting to piss me off, but what could I say to him? I had run out on him after worse than that. Whatever guilt he was feeling, I understood. I wasn’t heartless, after all.

It seemed someone had made a comment like that to me recently, but I couldn’t remember who. Something was nagging at my mind, but it was just out of reach.

I didn’t have much time to dwell on whatever it was that I couldn’t remember, though. I had a walk to drag myself through. That sounds bad, but it’s not as though I didn’t _want_ to do it. Those walks were sometimes the one good thing about my day. But when I’m fighting a hangover with a cup of coffee in each hand and a stomach that can’t even handle the thought of food, walking a mile on blistering hot pavement is really the last thing I want to do.

But I pulled myself through it somehow, and I think my speech at the end might have even made sense. No guarantees, though. I don’t think anyone even listens to them anymore; they’ve all heard it a million times. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself from talking, even when I’m sloshing lukewarm coffee around and wishing I had an ibuprofen or ten for this fucking headache.

Once the walk ended, I was finally able to make my way back into the relative quiet and darkness of the venue. Most of the lights were up, though, since people were still milling about, getting ready for the night’s show. Merch booths were being set up, sound guys were doing there thing, and so on. In the middle of it all, of course, was Seamus. His soundcheck was always sandwiched in between the walk and our soundcheck, there was no good reason for me to be surprised by the sight of him on stage, tuning his guitar.

Maybe surprised wasn’t the right word. Stunned? No, that wasn’t right either. I suppose the only word that fit was _floored_ , but it wasn’t what he was doing, so much as just how he looked doing it. I didn’t think there would ever come a time when I could look at that man and not have to steady myself to keep from being knocked off my feet by just how gorgeous he was.

He didn’t glance my way, though. I knew he was avoiding me, and despite my immediate physically reaction to him, I didn’t really relish the thought of talking to him, either. For one, what could I even say? And for two, I was far too hungover to say _anything_. It was in everyone’s best interest if I just whined to the guy at the pizza bar – who puts a pizza bar in a concert venue, anyway? – until he found me another cup of coffee.

Thankfully, the guy at the bar seemed to understand the urgency of my coffee crisis, and I was soon cradling a warm cup of something that definitely wasn’t gourmet, but would get the job done. I was so absorbed in it, that I didn’t really notice that at least some of the noise from the stage had stopped.

“Hungover?” Asked an amused voice from behind me, and I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

“Just a bit,” I lied. “The smell of pizza is definitely not helping.”

“Lightweight,” Seamus said with a laugh, leaning against the bar next to me. Suddenly, we seemed to be back on friendly terms, after half a day of silence. Did he have split personalities or something?

“Maybe I am,” I replied, eying him cautiously. I had no clue what he was playing at, but I figured it was best to follow his lead.

Something strange flashed in his eyes as he asked, “Do you even remember last night?”

I knew that tone of voice all too well. That was the voice someone used when there was something either really wanted you to remember or really wanted you to forget from the previous night’s alcoholic haze. I wasn’t sure which one it was in this case. That made it a little trickier to know how to react. I decided to go with my best blank stare, and tell very nearly the truth. “Nope. Don’t remember a thing.”

Seamus heaved a sigh and I could see relief written all over his face. He clearly was not much of an actor. Now the question was, what happened that he wanted me to forget?

“Why, did something interesting happen?” I asked. “I get a bit frisky when I’m drunk, you know.”

“I’m well aware,” he replied, his tone decidedly unamused. “Anyway, nothing happened.”

I couldn’t help smirking a bit at his reaction . For once, I seemed to have the upper hand with him. “Nothing at all? I do seem to recall you coming back to my room with me… yet, you weren’t there when I woke up.”

“Didn’t think you’d want my company in the morning.”

“Aww, now what makes you think that?” I was teasing him. I couldn’t help myself.

“Taylor,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I know what you want from me, and you know that’s not what I want. So let’s not pretend this is going somewhere when we both know there’s nowhere for it to go.”

With that, Seamus turned on his heel and walked away. It wasn’t often that anyone could leave me speechless, but he had. I watched wordlessly as he marched to the stage and snatched his guitar from its stand like it was a weapon and he was about to go to battle.

As he adjusted the mic stand and prepared to finish the soundcheck he had mostly spent talking to me, I tried desperately to remember what had happened the night before. I remembered the singing. I remembered the kiss. And I remembered… talking. But none of the words would come to me. I did, however, distinctly recall that whatever we had said, it ended with us falling asleep inches apart but not touching. Something, I didn’t remember what, had driven a wedge between us.

With one last glance in my direction, his eyes unreadable from the distance, Seamus began to sing.

_Every kind of love_  
 _Or at least my kind of love_  
 _Must be an imaginary love to start with_  
 _Guess that can explain the rain waiting walking game  
_ _Schubert bust my brain to start with_

_Cause every kind of love_  
 _Or at least my kind of love_  
 _Must be an imaginary love to start with_  
 _Guess that can explain the rain waiting walking game  
_ _Schubert bust my brain to start with_

_Oh, to look at you_  
 _In a cab_  
 _Back of your head across my lap_  
 _Oh, what grace_  
 _Green back seat against the red of your face_  
 _Oh, to look at you_  
 _Any old grand hotel_  
 _Drunken demands give way to reservations_  
 _Oh, what a room_  
 _Champagne brings such happy faces  
_ _Happy faces_

_Cause every kind of love_  
 _Or at least my kind of love_  
 _Must be an imaginary love to start with_  
 _Guess that can explain the rain waiting walking game  
_ _Schubert bust my brain to start with_

_Cause every kind of love_  
 _Or at least my kind of love_  
 _Must be an imaginary love to start with, baby_  
 _Guess that can explain the rain waiting walking game_  
 _Schubert bust my brain to start with  
_ _Oh, oh…_

As the song faded away, I remembered.

He told me he liked me. He had practically begged me to explain why I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me in any way that didn’t involve sex, and I had refused. I had practically thrown a tantrum, which I was quite well known for doing both when things didn’t go my way and when I was drunk. Yet, he still claimed to like me.

It made no sense at all. Why would he still want something from me that he knew I wouldn’t, couldn’t give? I suddenly understood everything that had just transpired between us. He was ashamed for admitting, so bluntly, how he felt. I couldn’t blame him. If I had told some drunken whore that I liked them, I would feel pretty ashamed, too.

Except, I was the drunken whore. And I liked him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics are from "Imaginary Love" by Rufus Wainwright.


	8. Honesty

The problem with this whole Seamus situation was that I knew exactly what I had to do. When the next step was unclear, it was easier to do nothing at all. But I knew what Seamus wanted from me; he had made everything crystal clear. If I only wanted sex – and I was realizing that I didn’t – then I would have to look for it elsewhere. If, however, I wanted something more, I would have to be honest with him about my past and my reluctance to get into a relationship.

It wasn’t going to be easy, and I wasn’t totally convinced he was worth it, but I was going to give it a try.

I was worried that he wouldn’t listen to me, though. He seemed to be running out of patience with me, even after just a week of my bullshit. But somehow, I had to make him listen. I didn’t really have anything to lose. If it didn’t work out, I was pretty sure I could suffer through the rest of the tour with him, and then make sure that I never, ever saw him again.

That night, we weren’t getting a hotel. We had time to get a little rest on the bus itself, then hit the road pretty early for Richmond. It was far easier to sleep on the bus when it wasn’t in motion, but I would have preferred a hotel. Hotels had places I could hide if the conversation with Seamus blew up in my face.

I was, as always, a coward. After the concert ended, I stayed outside signing autographs for as long as I could. Any reason at all to delay this conversation was fine by me. Of course, eventually, all the fans were gone and I had no more reason to stand by the back door of the venue like a creeper. Mustering up all of my courage, I marched to the bus and immediately grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. I didn’t plan to get drunk, but I figured one or two drinks to loosen me up wouldn’t hurt.

Everyone else was already settled into the bus by that point. A quick glance down the hallway revealed that Zac had a crowd gathered around to play video games with him. Seamus was sitting back there looking bored – no controller in his hand, I noticed. He must have felt my eyes on him, because he glanced up and met my stare. I looked away quickly and slid into a seat just out of his view.

My laptop was resting on the table in front of me, and since we were sitting still, I figured there was a good chance I could find some wifi to steal while I tried to figure out how to approach Seamus. I certainly wasn’t going to march back there and try to lure him out of Zac’s gamer party. I didn’t need to draw any extra attention this. So, cowardice won out again and I stayed planted in front of my laptop, sorting through pictures to post on our website.

“I like that one, in the mirror,” Seamus said as his shadow descended on me. I was really getting tired of him just appearing like that. “Really shows off your self-absorbed side.”

“The way you talk about me, you’d think I didn’t have another side,” I huffed.

“It certainly does seem that way,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I had known he wasn’t going to make this easy, but I really thought we were past all the sarcasm. Obviously, I was wrong. I was determined to see this through, though. I watched as Seamus surveyed the contents of the refrigerator and finally settled on a beer. He turned and began to walk back to the back of the bus, and I figured that was my chance.

“Seamus. Can we talk?”

The tiniest hint of a smirk passed across his face, and he slid into the seat across from me. “Sure. Let’s talk.”

I took a deep breath as he cracked open his beer and took a sip. I could see he was trying to give me time to start, and I was glad for it. It wasn’t a pleasant story, and I certainly wasn’t looking forward to sharing it with him. At some point, though, the silence became really awkward and I knew I had to just dive right in.

“Okay,” I said, sighing. “You wanted to know what my problem with actual relationships is?”

“I am a bit curious, yes,” Seamus replied, nodding.

“I wasn’t always like this,” I said. “When we were younger, Isaac got a lot of girls on tour. Groupies, you know. It seemed like the thing to do, so I started letting the crew guys bring groupies backstage for me, too. One day, when I was seventeen, there was this one girl. She was different; she wouldn’t just do the groupie thing and let it end there. Having a steady girlfriend seemed… easier, I suppose, than just fooling around. So I got her number and it turned into this long distance thing.”

I paused to let that much sink in – it occurred to me that Seamus probably didn’t even know I was into girls too – while I prepared for what was coming next. That little smirk still played at the corner of his lips.

“Things went pretty well for a while. I had this on again, off again thing with one of the opening acts that I had to break off to make it work with Natalie, but I did it. She seemed worth it, at the time.”

Seamus’ smirk grew a bit. “So I’m not the first opening act you’ve had.”

“Sorry to break it to you,” I replied with a little smirk of my own. “So, things were good for about a year. Mostly long distance, but it was easier that way. Then I met this guy – Alex. The attraction was immediate, and it confused the hell out of me. But he saw it for what it was, and he was persistent. He was a good friend, though. When we were out in LA recording and fighting with the label, he was by my side the whole way, in ways Natalie just couldn’t have been. I needed him.”

I had to pause again there to catch my breath. I could see Seamus’ face softening at the way I described Alex. I _was_ capable of feeling emotions, and if he didn’t believe it after all this, I didn’t think he ever would.

“I tried to fight it at first, you know? Didn’t want to admit I was falling for this guy, but at some point it just seemed stupid to pretend it wasn’t happening. Natalie didn’t know. But she didn’t like how I was always out partying with him, so eventually our fighting came to a head and I ended it. I was going to be with Alex – really _be_ with him.”

That seemed to take Seamus by surprise. And that wasn’t even half the story.

“Natalie wasn’t ready to admit it was over, though. She talked her parents into letting her come out to LA to visit, so we could patch things up. We fought every day. We would get back together, break up, and then do it all over again the next day. Then one day… we slept together. It wasn’t the first time, but we weren’t as careful as we had been before that.”

I paused, and I could see the wheels turning in Seamus’ mind. He knew where this story was going, I was sure.

“A few weeks later, she told me she was pregnant,” I said. I had to pause to take another deep breath there. “So, I ended it with Alex. What could I do? I had to marry her. I had to make things right. We told our parents, we started making plans… god, it seemed like my life was ending. After a few months, though, the truth came out. She hadn’t been pregnant at all, and eventually she admitted that she _knew_ she hadn’t been. She just wanted to be sure she got me back.”

Seamus leaned back against his seat as though he had been physically pushed, the breath knocking out of him entirely.

“Naturally, I ran back to Alex. But he wouldn’t have me. I had abandoned him for a girl after he thought I was finally ready to come out, to admit to the world that we were together. It didn’t matter that that was over for good. I can’t say that I blame him.” Another pause for breath. “We still got together every now and then, for a few years, but it was never the same. And obviously, I am out now.”

So that was it. My dirty laundry had been aired. For a long moment, Seamus only stared at me, his mouth the tiniest bit open and his eyes wide. Had I shocked him completely speechless? It didn’t seem possible.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and leaning forward. “So, that’s why you won’t let anyone in?”

“That’s pretty much it,” I replied, nodding.

“Forgive me, but that’s dumb.”

My mouth fell open as I stared at him. I don’t know what sort of reaction I was hoping for – maybe a little sympathy or understanding – but it was definitely _not_ that. I stuttered and stammered. “It’s what?”

“It’s dumb,” he repeated. “So one person lied to you and another one broke your heart. And for that, you don’t trust anyone at all?”

“I suppose that’s it, yeah.”

“And that doesn’t sound dumb to you?”

It did, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Logically, of course I knew that everyone in the world wouldn’t treat me like Natalie and Alex had, but it was just easier to assume that they would. Maybe it wasn’t statistically sound, but I was certain that I was still sparing myself plenty of heartache this way.

“You’re a smart guy, Taylor,” Seamus said. “You ought to know that not everyone is out to hurt you.”

“But some people are,” I replied, not caring how silly I sounded.

“Maybe. But how are you ever going to find someone who won’t if you automatically assume the worst of them?”

Damn him. Damn him and his logic.

“Well?” He asked, crossing his arms and looking smug.

I huffed. “You just said you wanted to know why I was this way. You didn’t mention that you were going to judge me for it.”

“I’ve been judging you all along,” he replied, smirking. “Now I’ve at least got a good reason.”

I rolled my eyes. “And that reason is?”

“Because you’re stubbornly denying yourself happiness because you’re a coward who can’t take a little heartbreak. But you won’t know real love, the kind that’s worth it, if you don’t suffer a little bit first.”

“And what if I suffer a lot first?” It was an honest question. It was, in fact, the thing that scared me the most.

But Seamus shrugged like it was nothing. “That’s the chance you take. You just have to decide it’s worth it – that someone is worth it.”

“But how do I _know_?” I asked. I was beginning to feel like a stupid child. We were the same age; how did he know all of this, and I didn’t? It all seemed so simple, but I had denied it all for years and chosen the path of least resistance.

“You just do,” he replied, shrugging. “It’s something you just feel in your bones.”

I stared at him. That wasn’t much of an answer. But in a way, it was. I couldn’t have explained what I felt for him; it was just this thing that I couldn’t deny even though I wanted to. It was something I just _knew_ , something that just was. Maybe that was what he meant. Maybe –

No.

But… maybe.

Would it kill me to take the chance on him? Probably not. But that’s why it was called a chance. Because even if I knew how I felt about him, I didn’t know what would happen from here on out. That was the scary part, the part I had shied away from for years. Taking a chance could mean finding new and horrible ways to break what was left of my heart.

Or it could mean finally putting all of its pieces back together.

That was the chance I had to take.

As I sat there, staring into Seamus’ eyes, I felt this terrifying confidence wash over me. I had no more faith than ever before that this could work, but I didn’t _care_. I wanted to try it, and I didn’t give a damn how much it could hurt.

“I think I feel it now,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. I wasn’t even sure that Seamus heard me, until he slid his hand across the table and placed it over mine.

“I do too.”


	9. Awkward

Things didn’t immediately change after that conversation. I guess I had this image in my mind of it being like a movie or something; once we came to that realization together, everything would be sunshine and roses and cheesy montages of the two of us skipping through fields or something.

But it wasn’t. We went to our bunks alone, like nothing at all had happened. We woke up and wordlessly drank our coffee like nothing at all had happened. We ate our gas station lunch like nothing at all had happened.

I never thought I was a romantic, but this all disappointed me greatly. I wanted things to be different. I wanted to know that my words had really _meant_ something. But I guess that sort of thing didn’t happen overnight. Still, I thought I could see something a little different in Seamus’ eyes when he caught me staring at him over the rack of potato chips in the gas station.

We had a radio thing to do that afternoon, so I didn’t get a chance to pull Seamus aside at any point during the day. I don’t know what I would have said to him if I could have, anyway. I felt like our conversation the night before had said everything and nothing. It didn’t leave me with any sense of where I really stood with him. And one thing I really, really hated was uncertainty.

But of course, the universe saw fit to leave me reeling for the entire day, with no clue what would happen whenever Seamus and I finally had a chance to say more than two words to each other.

I poured my heart and soul into the performance that night. It was the first time on the tour – which, granted, had only been a week – that I really felt happy to be onstage. I didn’t feel like I was running from something, and oddly, I didn’t feel a terrible anxiety to be off the stage, either. I was perfectly happy exactly where I was. I felt like myself again.

Seamus was the first person I saw when I came offstage. I wondered how long he had been standing in the wings; his sheepish smile suggested that he had been there for the entire show. I started to just flash him a smile and continue on to the venue’s bathroom for a quick shower. Seamus wouldn’t let me get away with that, though. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to his side, leaning in close enough that his lips were nearly touching my skin.

“If you let me come to your room tonight, I promise I’ll stay all night long.”

I couldn’t stop a huge grin from spreading across my face at that. Seamus gave me a grin of his own, then gave my arm the tiniest of squeezes before letting go. I scurried away quickly, not wanting to waste a second of time I could be spending with him in the privacy of my hotel room.

Of course, that wouldn’t come nearly soon enough. The crew still had to load everything out and we still had to go outside and great the fans. Okay, we didn’t _have_ to do that, but we all knew how much they appreciated it; it was just one of those little things that we took pride in because they set us apart from other bands. I decided to skip out on that in favor of a shower, though. We had a mutual understanding that at least one of us would go out by the bus after each show, but we didn’t make a big deal out of all three of us going. That night, I decided, would be my night off.

I was infinitely grateful to myself for bringing a clean change of clothes into the venue that afternoon; I had this silly desire to make a good impression on Seamus, even if it wasn’t really our first night together. It still felt important, and I wanted to take that seriously. So, clean underwear was a must.

Once I was out of the shower, I felt infinitely better. I multitasked my way across the green room, toweling my hair dry with one hand and tossing my scattered belongings back into my messenger bag with my other hand. It didn’t matter that I would still be sitting on the bus waiting for an hour or more, I couldn’t slow myself down.

When I opened the green room door, I collided head on with Zac. He was still sweaty from the show and I immediately worried that I was going to need another new shirt just from the proximity to his grossness.

“Where are you going?” He asked, still breathing a little hard from our collision. “Aren’t you going to come out and sign autographs tonight?”

“No, I’m not,” I replied. That sounded a little suspicious. “I’m umm, just gonna go back to the bus.”

That also sounded suspicious. Zac’s eyes narrowed a little and I could see that he was considering my reply and trying to figure out what the lie was. I stared back at him, afraid that if I said another word he would know. He would just know. It wouldn’t even matter what I tried to say; the words would just come out as “I’m going have fantastic sex tonight with Seamus.”

As if on cue, as if I had _actually_ said his name out loud, Seamus walked up and stared back and forth between the two of us. He seemed to grasp the tension, and didn’t speak, but still stood right there in front of the door. The three of us were stuck in this awkward staring loop, no one saying a word. I could feel my face heating up under both of their stares.

I stepped aside to let Seamus pass, and he gave me a shy little smile as he did. That only made my face burn even brighter, and I had no doubt that both he and Zac could see the effect. Zac’s eyes narrowed as he watched Seamus walk into the green room. He turned back to face me and I could see that he had figured out exactly what was going on. I didn’t give my little brother enough credit sometimes; he was way smarter than he looked.

“Well,” he said, a tiny smirk on his lips. “Have fun.”

I didn’t even dignify that with a response. What did it matter what Zac thought of my plans with Seamus, anyway? He didn’t know what was going on between the two of us; no one on the tour knew. Maybe they had some suspicions, but I didn’t think we had been obvious in any way about this thing we had.

Why did it matter, anyway? I had never before cared what people thought about my sex life, even though they most definitely had opinions – and usually not pleasant ones. I didn’t care what they thought, though/ What I did in bed was my business and my business alone. But with Seamus… it was different. That was the mantra these days. Everything about Seamus was different, including this strange new self-consciousness I was developing.

Frustrated not only with Zac but with my reaction to him, I stalked out to the bus quickly and secluded myself in the back lounge. I knew I could count on at least a little bit of privacy there until the band finished loading out and everyone piled onto the bus. Then, I had no doubt that Zac’s video game party would take over the lounge yet again, but at least I could be alone with my stupid brain before that.

Or not.

I hadn’t been in the lounge for more than five minutes before I saw Seamus walking toward me, a look of amusement on his face. I found myself struck with the desire to both run and hide from him and to run to him. It was a strange mixture of feelings, but it seemed a perfectly appropriate reaction to someone so infuriating.

“Are you sulking?” He asked, plopping down on the couch next to me.

Yes. “No.”

“Oh, come on now,” he said, leaning just a little bit closer, practically taunting me. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t like his tone at all, but I was beginning to learn that there _was_ some sincerity lurking underneath all the sarcasm. It was just a matter of finding it – or possibly just deluding myself into really, really believing it was there. Still, I only gave him an exasperated sigh, not an answer.

“Taylor,” he said, his voice the tiniest bit gentler.

I wonder if he knew the effect he had on me when he said my name like that? I had a feeling he must have. It was the perfect form of manipulation. I was one stare away from being putty in his hands. With another long sigh, I finally said, “It’s nothing, really. Just letting my brain do too much thinking.”

“And what is it thinking about?”

I let my head fall back against the couch. “This thing. Us.”

“Us?” There was a hint of amusement to his voice. “Is there an us now?”

“Isn’t there?”

Seamus smiled. “Yeah. I suppose there is.”

After all the buildup to and importance placed on our conversation the night before, it seemed odd that it all came down to just a few little, not at all eloquent sentences. There was an us. My worries faded slightly at that knowledge and I scooted in, closing the small distance between our bodies. We were pretty much the same height and build, so we didn’t automatically fall into a comfortable cuddling position; instead, we just sat there, pressed up against each others’ sides so close that our knees knocked together. Seamus stretched a little bit to reach his arm over the back of the couch, only the tiniest distance from my shoulders. It was a little awkward, but nice.

“Is this alright?” Seamus asked, and I knew he was referring to our positions. “You’re not going to jump up and run if someone walks in?”

“I…” That took me by surprise, even though it shouldn’t have. He always cut right through the bullshit and said exactly what he meant. I thought about it for a second. “No. No, I won’t.”

He looked unconvinced. “Your brothers don’t know, do they?”

“They know,” I said. “At least, they know… how I usually do things.”

“Mmm, but this is different, isn’t it?” Seamus asked, that familiar smirk returning to his face again.

“I suppose it is,” I replied.

And it was. It was very different. Seamus infuriated me, annoyed me and frustrated me to no end. But all of that seemed to only draw me to him, not away from him. It wasn’t comfortable, emotionally or even – at that moment – physically, to be around him, but maybe that was okay. Maybe that was just the way it was going to be. I was finding that uncomfortable didn’t really mean the same thing as unpleasant.

No, that really didn’t make sense at all. None of this did. I had a feeling that was just something I would have to get used to with Seamus.

“I hope it is,” Seamus said, his voice soft. Was that vulnerability? Is that what I heard? It was hard to think of him that way, although I knew he must have been.

I leaned in a little closer to him, staring into his eyes. God, they were beautiful. “It is different. I promise.”

My voice shook a little on the last word, but I could see that Seamus still believed me. And I meant it; it _was_ different. I hadn’t felt – hadn’t let myself feel – anything like this since Alex. I tried not to cringe at the thought of him. Seamus was nothing like Alex; okay, maybe the shared a certain sense of humor. But other than that? Nothing alike. For one, Alex was definitely not on the bus with me right now, creeping closer and closer to me.

The fact that Seamus was planning to kiss me dawned on me far later than it should have. I’m not even sure it registered until his lips brushed up against mine. And it still didn’t have time to fully register, as the bus door slammed shut loudly at that very moment. We both jumped back, trying desperately to play it cool.

It was Zac, of course, with his gamer buddies in tow. I should have expected that.

Zac flopped down Seamus’ other side, evidently not noticing anything wrong. “Shay, you gonna play with us tonight?”

_Shay?_ Since when did Zac get to call him by a nickname? And since when was I jealous of my very-not-gay brother’s friendship with my… boyfriend? Was he my boyfriend? I definitely needed to ask him that later.

Seamus chuckled softly. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Tay? What about you?” Zac leaned around Seamus to ask. I couldn’t quite place the emotion in his eyes, but something about his voice and the way he looked at me made it impossible to say no.

“Sure,” I replied with a sigh. “But you’re gonna kick my ass.”

“I always do,” Zac replied with a grin.

I rolled my eyes, then gave Seamus an apologetic look. He didn’t seem bothered, though. With a bit of a smirk on his face, he leaned in closer to me and whispered, “Your room. One thirty.”

As if he thought I might have forgotten. Not likely.


	10. Tay and Shay

I had a date. With Seamus. Okay, so he had just invited himself to my hotel room, with the implication that there would be sex, but it was still a date. It’s not like I had been on a normal date without ulterior motives for years anyway, so this seemed pretty much par for the course for me.

So why was I so nervous?

I lost every game I played with Zac – no surprise there. But for once it wasn’t lack of skill; it was total lack of concentration. I couldn’t think about aliens driving tanks or what-the-hell-ever. I could only think about Seamus and what we were going to do later. I practically ripped Machine’s hand off when he handed over my hotel key card and nearly took Ike out with my suitcase on my way through the lobby. From somewhere behind me, I could hear Seamus laughing, but if I turned around to look, I had a feeling I would just end up saying something ridiculously sexual.

Instead, I sprinted to my room and paced the floor nervously as I waited for the time he had promised to show up.

Every second that I waited for him, more and more doubt crept into my mind. What if it didn’t work out? What if he decided I wasn’t what he wanted? What if it had been so long that I just totally sucked in bed? Okay, I wasn’t _that_ worried about the last possibility. But the more time I had alone with my thoughts, the more ridiculous, horrible scenarios seemed to fill them.

At exactly 1:30 – evidently Hanson time hadn’t infected him yet – Seamus knocked on the door. I had this moment of sheer panic and considered not even answering the door. That was dumb, though. How could I ever face him again if I did that? And why run when he was finally giving me what I wanted?

Not that the sex was all I wanted. I was finding that it really wasn’t at all. And while that absolutely terrified me, I knew that hiding from him wasn’t the answer. So I opened the door.

Seamus leaned casually against the door frame and it made me a little angry that he seemed perfectly at ease while I was falling apart.

“Hey you,” he said, giving me a lazy smile.

Even with just those two simple words, my face began to heat up. Seamus smiled, though, so he must have found the blush attractive, endearing or something. I hated that blush. I thought I had moved well past being flustered every time someone flirted with me, but apparently Seamus turned me back into a giggling sixteen year old. Of course, at sixteen, I wouldn’t have been opening my hotel door for a guy I was about to have sex with, so I suppose some things had changed after all.

“Hey,” I managed to squeak out, my voice apparently deciding to match that sixteen year old blush.

Seamus glanced up and down the hallway, then looked back at me and smiled. Before I knew quite what was happening, he had leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I didn’t even care that the door was still open and we were halfway out of the room. I poured all the stupid emotions I couldn’t seem to say into that kiss, and he returned them every one.

“Well, that’s quite a greeting,” he said, pulling back to take a breath.

I didn’t reply; I just grinned and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him into the room and letting the door slam behind him. Neither of us said as word as I drug him to the bed and pulled him onto it beside me. It felt like I had completely forgotten how to be suave and seductive, but I hadn’t heard Seamus complain. In fact, he was just smiling at me.

Still smiling, he ran a hand gently through my hair. “Are you alright, Taylor?”

“Alright? Why wouldn’t I be?” Well, _that_ sounded convincing.

“You seemed a little… flustered earlier,” he replied, inching closer to me, his hand still playing with my hair.

“It’s nothing,” I said, leaning in to kiss him again in the hopes of ending that line of questioning. It didn’t work.

“Taylor. I want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me things.”

“What things?” I asked, feigning innocence.

Seamus sighed. “What you’re thinking. If you’re happy. If this is what you want.”

“I’m thinking…” I said with a sigh, scooting back against the headboard. Seamus followed me, sitting by my side and staring into my eyes. “I’m thinking that this is really weird and maybe the first relationship I’ve been in since I was nineteen. If that’s what it is. And I don’t even know. I feel like I have absolutely no frame of reference for this, for how to act. And I am happy, I think, but it’s just so… so weird.”

The words seemed to flow out of my mouth of their own accord. I hadn’t planned what I was going to say at all, and I seemed to have no control over it at all. I was pretty sure I would have kept rambling for god knows how long if Seamus hadn’t reached his hand out and touched my cheek gently.

“I’m happy, Seamus. This is what I want,” I replied honestly, finally breathing out.

He nodded and smiled. “Good. I am, too. And I believe this is a relationship.”

“So you’re my boyfriend?” I asked with a silly grin, hardly caring how silly and childish I sounded.

“Yeah,” he replied with a laugh. “If you’re mine.”

“Yeah,” I said, letting out a laugh as well. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over me and I gave Seamus a genuine smile.

“So we’re good?” He inched closer to me as he said it, his body pressed up against my side.

“Yeah, we’re good,” I replied, turning my head and pressing my lips to his again.

That gentle kiss opened the floodgates. In seconds, he was scrambling into my lap, pinning me back against the bed. I was so fucking tired of waiting that I didn’t waste a second before sliding my hands under his shirt and pushing it up, whimpering a little when I had to break the kiss so he could pull the shirt over his head.

We shed the rest of our clothes in a hurry and a flurry of limbs. Honestly, it was kind of awkward and clumsy, considering how tall and thin we both were. I wasn’t a coordinated person at the best of times, and my nervousness only made it worse right then. Somehow, though, we both managed to end up naked without any injuries, and then I was scrambling onto his lap, my hands firmly on his shoulders as I kissed his face and neck.

I wanted to kiss absolutely every single inch of him, even if it took all night. I trailed my lips along his neck, down his collarbone, and then swirled my tongue around each of his nipples. He moaned my name and I thought I might come right then and there, just from the sound of it. Thankfully, I didn’t, and I continued my trek down his body, letting my tongue skim over the patch of hair below his navel before finally coming to rest between his legs. His cock was long and thick, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I wrapped my lips tightly around him, sucking desperately, pulling more and more moans from his beautiful mouth.

It was obvious, from the way he dug his fingernails into my scalp and rolled his hips up off the mattress, that Seamus wanted this every bit as much as I did. I understood why he had held out, why he had forced me to confront my feelings before taking this step, but that understanding did nothing to quench the fire spreading through my body as I sucked him for all he was worth.

When I was certain he was close and I could take the anticipation no longer, I pulled back and inched my way back up his body. I pressed a few heated kisses to his lips, then gave him a tiny smirk and hopped off the bed to grab my toiletry bag from where it sat by the bathroom sink. I located the tiny little bottle of lube quickly, and rushed back to the bed where Seamus lie panting and watching my every move.

I climbed onto Seamus again, straddling his thighs and staring down at him. His eyes followed my hands as I squeezed out a healthy amount of lube. I didn’t have the patience to wait; I wanted him then and there. The liquid warmed in my hand quickly, and I ran my slick hand up and down his length, coating him with it.

“Oh, Taylor…” he gasped out, his hips bucking up to match the motions of my hand.

And that was it. The tiny thread of patience I had left unraveled, and I pulled my hand back. I had to have him now. My legs trembled a little as I lowered myself onto him, unable to tear my eyes away from his.

He felt _amazing_. Sure, it felt like I was being stretched wide open, pushed right to the breaking point, but I didn’t care. That really only made me want more. I barely gave myself time to adjust to the feeling of him before I began riding him, gasping in pleasure every time I sunk back down onto his cock. Seamus matched my rhythm perfectly, his hips rolling up to meet mine thrust for thrust.

The pace we fell into wasn’t all that fast, especially not compared to the heated movements that had brought us there. I didn’t want to rush it, and it seemed to me that he didn’t either. I wanted this to last as long as possible, to feel him in me forever.

Seamus trailed his hand lazily down my chest, finally bringing it to rest around my dick. He stroked me slowly and deliberately, matching the pace we had set together. Stars began exploding behind my eyes far sooner than I would have liked, but when it felt that damn good, I could find little reason to complain.

Our moans grew louder and louder, but our pace stayed the same. I came with a pathetic whimper, coating Seamus’ hand, and he followed soon after, gripping my hips hard as he cried out my name.

I leaned down and pressed a quick but passionate kiss to his lips, then excused myself to the bathroom. Cleaning myself up and grabbing a towel for him, I made my way back to the bed and curled up at Seamus’ side.

Once he was cleaned up, he wrapped his arm around me and let out a contented sigh. Even though he hadn’t really said anything, I agreed completely with the sentiment. It was a perfect little moment. So, naturally, I had to ruin it with words.

“So… Shay, huh?”

He tilted his head to the side a little. “Hmm?”

“Zac called you Shay,” I explained. “Earlier, on the bus. I didn’t know that was your nickname.”

“I suppose it is. I think Zac is the first person to ever call me that, though.”

“Oh,” I replied, trying not to sound as stupidly jealous as I was. He was _my_ boyfriend after all, not Zac’s – nickname or no nickname. “Can I call you Shay?”

“Of course.” He smiled a pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “You can call me anything you’d like.”

“Does that make us… Tay and Shay?” I asked, barely suppressing a little giggle.

“I suppose it does,” he replied, a tiny smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“I think I like that.”

“I think I do too.”


	11. Tight Jeans

The next morning, I woke up alone. The bed was still warm, a tiny reminder that someone had been next to me all night long. Once my senses all came back to me, I heard the tell-tale sound of the shower running. I stretched my arms and stared up at the ceiling, slowly letting myself adjust to being awake.

It felt odd to be happy that the person I had spent the night with was still there, and it felt even worse to realize that. I didn’t like thinking of myself as a horrible person. I had done what I thought necessary to protect myself. Seamus made me reconsider all of that, though. Seamus made me reconsider practically everything I thought I knew.

I was still stretched out across the bed when the shower stopped. A few seconds later, Seamus wandered out of the bathroom with only a thin towel wrapped around his waist. He gave me a sheepish smile when he noticed I was staring and ran a hand through his damp hair.

“I don’t suppose I could borrow some clothes? I don’t really fancy the idea of wearing the same thing I wore yesterday or wearing this towel down the hallway to my room.”

I chuckled and pointed toward my duffel bag. I wouldn’t have minded at all if he wore nothing but that towel for the rest of the day, but I could at least see that it wasn’t really practical. What a shame. When Seamus dropped the towel and wiggled into a pair of my jeans, sans underwear, I didn’t even try to hide the fact that I was staring at his ass. He gave me a quick glance and a wink over his shoulder, because of course he knew I was staring, then pulled one of my t-shirts over his head. Faded jeans and a red shirt. It wasn’t terribly obvious that it was all mine, but knowing my luck, someone would probably still recognize that Seamus had gone shopping at Taylor Mart for the day’s outfit.

Our walk was scheduled a little later than usual that day, for no apparent reason other than to give us a half day off. Whatever the reason for it, I certainly wasn’t complaining. My only complaint was that I couldn’t spend the entire day in bed with Seamus; even if it was almost a day off, we still had to check out early. Still, it gave me time to take a nice leisurely shower – a luxury that I didn’t ever take for granted on tour.

When I came out of the bathroom, Seamus was lacing up his boots and his few bags were sitting on the bed next to him. From the corner of my eye, I could see him steal a glance at me when I dropped my towel and wiggled into a similar outfit to his.

I gathered up the rest of my things – clothes scattered around the floor, laptop and cell phone charging in a chair, toothbrush and so on in the bathroom – while Seamus finished lacing his boots. He was standing in front of the mirror, tugging a little on his – _my_ – jeans when I finally rejoined him.

“Problems?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Only that I probably won’t be able to reproduce if I wear these all day,” he replied.

“I didn’t force you to wear them,” I said, throwing my bags over my shoulder. I took one last look up and down Seamus’ body before grabbing the room key, and smirked. “In fact, I’m usually trying to get you _out_ of your pants.”

“True, true,” he replied, picking up his own belongings. “Come on, let’s go. I don’t feel like sitting around when I could be out exploring Richmond. Never been here before.”

For half a second, I considered offering Seamus my hand. I reconsidered it for two reasons. One, I was pretty sure it would throw my balance of completely if I tried to carry all my bags and keep him tethered to my side. Two, I just wasn’t ready for that. Being seen in public with him didn’t bother me; I’d certainly never denied the rumors and allegations about my sexuality. It was being seen by my brothers that bothered me. They could be worse critics than even the cheapest drugstore tabloid.

Naturally, they were both already waiting in hotel lobby when Seamus and I walked out of the elevator. I saw them both give Seamus a look from head to toe, and then a look at me. Isaac quickly turned his head back to Bex, who was rattling off our schedule for when we met back up at the venue that afternoon. But Zac kept his eyes trained on me, his silent judgment written all over his face. That struck me as more than a little odd; he knew this was happening. He even commented on it last night. I knew no one was a big fan of my tendency to fall into bed with our supporting acts, but something about the set of Zac’s jaw and the tight line of his mouth seemed different.

I didn’t have much time to think about that before Bex had brought me into the band meeting, though. I made a promise to myself to ask him what his deal is later, but I had no doubt that by lunch, I wouldn’t remember.

The mere thought of food had me suddenly acutely aware that I hadn’t had any coffee yet. I glanced around the room nervously until my eyes fell on the little continental breakfast stand on the far side of the room, well away from the couch we were gathered around.

Seamus must have followed my eyes, because he placed his hand on the small of my back and leaned in a little bit closer to my side. “You want a cup? Black, right?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I replied, giving him a little smile that I’m sure wasn’t as subtle as I would have liked.

Zac’s eyes left me for just long enough to watch Seamus walk out of earshot. When he turned back, there was an obvious sneer painted across his face. “Really, Tay? Wearing your clothes and waiting on you? Didn’t take long to train that one.”

“I didn’t _train_ him. That’s disgusting,” I replied, crossing my arms. “What the hell does it matter what he does?”

“You mean _who_ he does?”

“I mean go fuck yourself.”

Have I mentioned I’m not generally a pleasant person before I’ve had my coffee? Zac normally knew better than to bother me in my uncaffeinated state, but he also loved to push my buttons.

“You know, I thought those jeans looked a little tight,” Isaac remarked.

“Were you checking out Taylor’s boyfriend’s ass?” Zac asked.

“He’s not my – okay. Fine. He’s my boyfriend.”

I realized a moment too late that Seamus had walked back within earshot just in time to hear those particular words leave my mouth. A faint blush actually crept across his cheeks as he handed a cup of coffee to me. The moment threatened to be really awkward, but Bex interrupted it with the continued reading of our itinerary. I’ve never been more thankful for her presence than right then.

Although he didn’t say a word, he stayed close to my side while Bex finished running through her little speech. I could feel his body heat next to me, tempting me to look at him or touch him, but I had to resist. It took all of my strength and left me clutching so desperately at my coffee that I was lucky I didn’t crush the little paper cup.

When she finally finished talking, I was the first one out the door to load my bags back onto the bus. Seamus followed right behind me; I could still feel him there, like I had just developed this sense for when his body was near mine. Once our bags were loaded and our hands empty – except for the coffee cup I was still clinging desperately too – he placed his hand on the small of my back and gave me a look. I didn’t need to ask what the look was for; I could see the question in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” I said softly, trying not to let my eyes wander to see how much attention we were attracting.

“Are you?”

I sighed. “No, but I will be. Let’s go find some better coffee.”

Seamus gave me a little nod and used that hand on my back to steer me away from the bus. Neither of us knew our way around the city, but we were downtown. There had to be a coffee shop nearby. Even if there wasn’t, I didn’t think I minded just wandering aimlessly with him all day. Words weren’t even necessary, although of course Seamus couldn’t stay quiet for long.

“So… your brothers?”

“Sorry about them,” I replied.

“No apology necessary,” he said, giving me a little grin. “I ought to thank them, really. They finally got you to admit that we’re together.”

“I think you just like seeing me embarrassed,” I replied. Even though I was pouting, I didn’t try to shy away from his touch. I really didn’t even care if people saw us together, side by side with his hand still resting on my back. It felt too comfortable, too right, to worry about repercussions.

“Maybe I do. Is that a problem?”

“Would you stop if it was?”

“Probably not,” he replied with a hint of a chuckle, then gave me a more serious look. “But I don’t want to make you truly uncomfortable. If it’s bothering you or making your brothers get on your case…”

I shook my head, but that didn’t stop him from pulling back, his hand falling away from my back and the distance between our bodies increasing by a few inches. I didn’t like it. It was strange how quickly I had grown to love his nearness, and I found myself leaning closer to him, urging him to give me that little bit of affection again. He didn’t, but his face softened a bit.

“Seamus… no. It’s fine,” I said, but my voice gave away that it wasn’t really. “You know I come with lots of baggage. Unfortunately, my asshole brothers are just a part of that.”

He gave another little chuckle. “If I couldn’t handle the baggage, I wouldn’t have even tried. I think you’re the one who can’t seem to carry that load, and you don’t even see that I’m offering you a hand with it.”

“You definitely are a songwriter, aren’t you?” I asked. Before he could answer, I spotted the sign for a coffee shop, and placed my hand on his back to nudge him toward it.

“I suppose so,” he replied, wrapping his arm around me as well. “Am I getting through to you at all?”

“Nothing is going to get through to me before I’ve got some espresso in my system,” I replied with a grin, holding the coffee shop door open for him. I could feel the smile spreading further and further across my face as the glorious aroma of fresh coffee hit my nose; I was like a kid in a candy shop.

“Why does it feel like you’re cheating on me with a latte?” Seamus asked.

“Probably because I am.” I grinned, giving Seamus’ side a little squeeze before jumping in line.

He only laughed and shook his head at me. I didn’t even mind; I knew I looked ridiculous, grinning and rocking on my heels. My caffeine addiction had been the butt of jokes for years, and it had long ago stopped bothering me – as long as I was able to feed the addiction, of course. And who was I to deny my boyfriend a little amusement at my expense?

Boyfriend.

The word still sounded weird to my ears, still felt a little wrong in my mouth. But it was the good sort of wrong. The kind that makes your stomach do somersaults and tie itself up in knots. Something told me it had the same effect on Seamus. Maybe it was that little gleam in his eye as he watched me drool over the menu of drinks and pastries. Maybe it was the way he kept his hand a little possessively on my hip. Whatever it was, I liked it.


	12. Smoke

Seamus and I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering up and down the streets of Richmond. Neither of us bought anything in the stores we walked into, but that was okay. That wasn’t really the point of the day at all. Exploring a city with someone, I had found, was the best way to get to know them. And the more I got to know Seamus, the more I was glad I had finally let him.

So glad, in fact, that I didn’t even care how ridiculously sappy he made me sound and feel.

All of that went out the window when we got back to the venue, though. As soon as we walked through the door together, I spotted Zac and he spotted us. And he actually _scowled_. The expression only lasted for a second before he turned his back to us as though we weren’t even there, but it was long enough to register with me. Seamus didn’t seem to notice, though, and I was grateful for that.

It took all the will power I had to drag myself away from him, but it wasn’t like I could really miss the walk. That was my thing, far more my cause than Isaac’s or Zac’s, and I hadn’t missed a single one since we started doing them. It just so happened that this particular walk was scheduled to take place during Seamus’ soundcheck. One afternoon without hearing his gorgeous voice wouldn’t kill me, though. Probably.

Zac’s attitude was no better once we began walking. He stayed near the back, hardly speaking to any of the fans. Usually he had a crowd of them around him, flashing cameras in his face and taping his silly jokes and stories. But not that day. They all seemed to sense the invisible wall of anger and bitchiness around him and kept a safe distance from it. Our fans were, unfortunately, no strangers to Zac’s angry side; most of them knew better than to poke the sleeping bear, as it were.

The good thing about taking the walk, though, was that I didn’t really have to interact with Zac at all. I could stay at the front, chatting with fans, and ignore the way he was trying to bore holes into the back of my head with his glare. I didn’t even look his way when I gave my speech at the halfway point or at the end. Still, I could feel his eyes on me the whole time.

Zac’s mood didn’t improve once we were back inside the venue for our soundcheck. Soundchecks were rarely a fun experience even when we were all in the best of moods, since we tended to leave the setlist planning to the last possible second and often pulled out random songs that we didn’t know especially well. Screw-ups and arguments were par for the course, but usually it all worked out by the time we took the stage for the actual show.

I had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case that night.

It was a blessing and a curse that we poured so much of ourselves into our music. The songs were full of our real emotions, and those emotions – good and bad – tended to spill over into the performances. If we weren’t all on the same wavelength, a concert could really suffer. In most cases, the audience could hardly tell the difference, but everyone on stage was always acutely aware of even the tiniest little problem.

And Zac was more than a tiny problem that night.

His performance was spot on, but I could still waves of anger radiating from him all night. He had argued over the setlist, nearly refusing to do any sort of solo that night at all. Even though we agreed on Wish That I Was There as part of the acoustic set, I could see a scowl set on his face as he sang the words. And when he launched into the intro of And I Waited, I was certain that everyone within five miles could feel the rage he was pouring into it, punishing his poor drumset for… what? I still didn’t know. I had the distinct impression that whatever it was, it was something I had done.

When he wouldn’t even stand next to me during the bow, it only served to confirm my suspicion that Zac wasn’t just in a bad mood – he was mad at me. I stole a glance at him over Isaac’s shoulder, but he was facing straight ahead, his mouth set in a grimace that no one closer than the fifth row could have possibly mistaken for a genuine smile.

He was the first of us offstage, rushing off toward the green room so fast that I could barely keep up with him. I knew that trying to talk to him would only end in a fight, but I had to know why he was mad.

Seamus intercepted me at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the venue’s green room, a huge smile on his face. “Hey, you sounded great. Admittedly, I missed the last few songs, but I feel confident in saying that those sounded great as well.”

“Thanks,” I replied, scooting in a little closer to him in case anyone walked by. Okay, maybe I just wanted to be closer to him. It was a very narrow corridor, though. “Listen, have you seen Zac?”

“He just blew through here,” Seamus replied, his brow furrowing a bit. “I suppose he was headed for the bus.”

I sighed. I could see that Seamus didn’t appreciate that I met his compliments with a question about my brother, but at that moment, I was more concerned about Zac. I could, and would, make things up to Seamus later. With only the slightest glance around to be sure that we were still alone, I pressed a quick kiss to Seamus’ cheek.

“I’m going to go talk to him, alright? Come find me in a little while?”

“Alright, go on,” Seamus replied with a hint of a smile.

I knew that little bit of public affection was manipulative, but I didn’t care. If it kept Seamus from being angry that I was running off to deal with Zac, then it was worth it. As he had pointed out earlier that day, he was well aware of all the baggage I came with, and Zac was definitely a large part of that.

The bus was parked as near to the venue as possible, so luckily I was able to slip onto it without being spotted by any fans who might already be lurking around in hopes of getting an autograph. Although I could hear their voices on the other side of the bus, I couldn’t see them and they couldn’t see me. I felt a little guilty for trying to avoid them, too, but again, Zac was the priority.

As soon as I swung the bus door open, I had no doubt that Zac was definitely on board. The tell-tale scent of pot hit me immediately, a tiny cloud of smoke escaping before I could close the door. It wasn’t the first time Zac had been that reckless about smoking where anyone at all could find him, but it was the first time that tour that I had caught him indulging in that particular bad habit. Of course, I was no one to judge him for having one little vice.

I followed the trail of smoke to the back lounge of the bus; even through the closed door, it was obvious what was happening inside. The smell assaulted my lungs as soon as I opened the door. How one person could make our bus look and smell like a Grateful Dead concert in a matter of minutes, I would never understand, but that was Zac for you. I might have been impressed if I hadn’t been so frustrated with the hissy fit he had thrown all day.

“Really, Zac?” I asked.

Zac glanced up from his pipe, one eyebrow barely raised, but didn’t say a word. He just took a long, slow hit, as though nothing at all had interrupted him. His eyes fell closed and he leaned back against the couch, blowing the smoke out slowly. Eyes still closed, he said, “I could say the same to you.”

“No. You don’t get to do that,” I replied, crossing my arms. “I’m clearly talking about how you’re getting stoned about ten feet away from a bunch of our fans. But I have no idea _what_ you think I’ve done.”

He let out a little chuckle, then took another hit. Everything about his demeanor said that he honestly didn’t care what I thought about his behavior. I figured I could attribute that lack of caring to the weed; Zac was never especially concerned with most people’s opinions, but he usually took mine into consideration, even if he still continued doing whatever he wanted afterward.

“Zac. What the fuck is your problem today?”

“No problem,” he replied, finally setting aside his pipe. “I do feel sorry for Shay, though.”

I bristled at the way Zac used that nickname. If there was something going on between the two of them… but no. That couldn’t possibly be it. Could it? Maybe Zac had a crush. That was a reasonable explanation, I thought.

“Sorry for him?”

“He really has no clue what he’s getting into, does he?” Zac asked. Before I could reply, he added, “I mean, it’s cute that you’re calling him your boyfriend. It really is. Does he know that label comes with an expiration date?”

“An expiration date?” I echoed.

“The end of the tour.”

I didn’t even need to ask. He was calling me a whore. I couldn’t even debate the issue; I was. But that was in the past. There was no way I could show Zac that, of course. And I didn’t really understand why it mattered to him. He had never before cared who I dated or slept with. Was he just jealous?

Zac gave a little chuckle. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“He knows,” I replied, desperately trying to stand my ground. “He knows how I used to be. But it’s not like that with him.”

“Of course it’s not,” Zac said, his voice a little softer but still full of venom.

“It’s _not_.” I sounded petty and childish, but so did Zac. Even if he did have a crush on Seamus, there was no need for him to be such a little bitch about my tendencies.

“Whatever you say,” he replied, picking up his xbox controller.

So that was that. Zac was just going to ignore me, effectively ending the fight and giving himself the last word. Knowing there was nothing else I could say, I turned on my heel and walked back to the other end of the bus. My laptop bag lay on the small table by the bus door, and I knew there was a pack of cigarettes tucked into one of the pockets. I didn’t smoke a lot these days, but I felt better just having a pack around in case I needed to sooth my nerves.

And after that conversation with Zac, my nerves were definitely in need of a little comfort.

I pulled out the cigarettes and the lighter I was happy to find in the pocket with them, and stomped off the bus. There was a little hidden alleyway where I was fairly certain none of the fans would spot me; although at that point, I was angry enough that I hardly cared. All I cared about right then was getting a little nicotine into my system so that I didn’t march back onto the bus and punch my brother. It was a fight I knew I wouldn’t win, but it was also a fight I really, really wanted to start.

The first drag made me cough a little – proof that I really wasn’t that much of a smoker anymore – but I didn’t mind. I leaned back against the brick wall of the building and let myself soak in the soothing feeling. In just a matter of minutes, I would feel better. Zac’s bitchiness wouldn’t even be a concern by the time I reached the filter.

I was about halfway through my cigarette when the venue’s back door swung open loudly. I opened my eyes and saw Seamus standing there, a slightly confused smile on his face.

“Did you find him?”

I nodded, taking another drag on the cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, leaning against the wall next to me.

I sighed, letting a little puff of smoke escape my mouth. “I don’t, usually. Gave it up a few years ago, but sometimes I just get the urge again.”

“And I suppose fighting with your brother gave you that urge tonight?”

“You could say that.”

He slid a hand between my back and the wall, gently rubbing at the knots of stress I didn’t realize I had. In seconds, I had let the cigarette fall to the ground unfinished. My tension wasn’t totally gone, but it was fading fast.

“Thanks, Shay,” I said, letting the nickname fall from my lips easily. I tried not to let myself think about Zac calling him that.

“No worries,” he replied, still kneading at the knots in my back. “Whatever his problem is, I’m sure it’ll pass. We’ll be alright.”

I didn’t share in his confidence, but I appreciated it. For the moment, I felt better, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I hadn’t seen the last of whatever Zac’s problem was.


	13. Drunk

We had the next day off entirely, although most of it was spent driving to Asheville. That meant I spent the majority of it in my bunk, sleeping. I only emerged when I was greeted with Seamus’ soothing voice and the smell of coffee. He knew the way to my heart already.

Zac and I seemed to have come to the decision just to avoid each other, though. He spent most of the day planted in the back lounge, playing some video game, and then went shopping with Muff for yet another video game. I would never understand the video game obsession, but I was glad that it kept him a safe distance from me all day long.

As for me, I spent the day with Seamus, exploring Asheville the way that we had Richmond. It was relaxing and fun, and it nearly took my mind off the drama with Zac. I felt like an idiot for even thinking there might have been something going on between the two of them; every second spent with Seamus was a reminder that he was _my_ boyfriend. And I was his.

We shared a hotel room that night, and I didn’t even bother to look Zac’s way when the key cards were handed out. I didn’t care what he thought of it. He could be as upset as he wanted; it wasn’t going to change how I felt.

In fact, I didn’t bother to pay Zac any attention at all until soundcheck the next day. Once again, he decided to test everyone’s patience by fighting over every single song on the setlist and generally paying no attention at all. He was late or early or just plain wrong more times than I could count. We hadn’t even come remotely close to hammering out all the problems when we ran out of time. Zac was the first one off the stage, tossing his drumsticks down dramatically before practically sprinting backstage.

Isaac gave me a look that seemed to say “deal with him.” I didn’t want to, but it was obvious that his problem _was_ with me. If anyone was going to get him back to normal, it would have to be me.

I found Zac in the green room, thankfully all by himself. He was sitting on a ratty old couch, staring at the wall. That in and of itself was weird enough; Zac was usually bouncing off the walls with energy before a concert. What really surprised and worried me, though, was the beer in his hand. Zac didn’t drink, at least not in the large quantities that me and Isaac did. Whatever he was upset about must have been bad if it had driven him to start drinking before a concert.

“Don’t you think you should wait until after the show to get trashed?” I asked, trying to sound more concerned than judgmental.

He only shrugged and took a long sip of his beer. I wanted to smack it out of his hand, but that would have been completely ridiculous. He was a grown man; he could drink when and where he wanted. Still, it might have at least gotten a reaction out of him, even if that reaction left me with a black eye. I didn’t do it, though. I took the high road.

“Zac. Will you please talk to me?”

“No, I don’t think I will,” he said, still not looking my way. He chugged the rest of the beer and tossed the can aside, missing the garbage can by a foot.

Even though there was plenty of room, Zac still shouldered me aside on his way out of the room. He always had to have the last word – even if that word was technically a petty, childish action and not a word at all. But I wouldn’t be deterred. I spun around and followed him down the hallway toward the venue’s tiny backstage bathroom.

I didn’t really even care that I was probably about to walk in on my brother using the bathroom. Stranger things had happened. I was just glad that he hadn’t locked the door. I yanked it open and planted myself in front it, using what little body weight I had to block his exit.

“What the fuck, Tay?” Zac screeched, his head snapping up to glare at me in the mirror above the sink.

“Talk to me.”

“I really, really don’t want to,” he replied. Despite all the anger he had shown up to that point, all I could see then was a scared little boy, and I still had no clue why.

“Zac, please,” I said, my voice softening a little. “I don’t understand what’s going on here. Obviously it has something to do with Seamus, and we need to talk about it. Whatever your deal is with him, I need to know.”

“My deal with _him_?” Zac’s reflection blinked at me and I returned his bewildered expression.

“Isn’t that what this is about? I’m dating Seamus and you apparently don’t like that.”

“You don’t date people, Taylor,” he replied, finally spinning around to face me for real. “You use them. You’re going to chew Shay up and spit him out just like you do everyone else who gets close to you.”

Was that really how Zac saw me? He was my best friend, and he apparently thought I was a horrible human being. Even Seamus had more faith in me than that, and he hardly knew me. But maybe that was why he could trust me; he didn’t know how bad I really was, and Zac did.

“Okay,” I replied. “I’m not gonna argue with you. Maybe I am that bad. So what, you wanna protect Seamus from me?”

“It’s not really about him, Tay.”

Just when I thought I understood what was going on, Zac had to go and confuse me again. If it wasn’t about his apparent crush on Seamus, then what was it about? I uncrossed my arms and took a step closer to him. “Zac… you know you can tell me. I’m not gonna judge you or get mad at you. I can’t blame you at all for liking him.”

“Liking him?” Zac repeated, his eyes widening. “You really don’t get it at all, do you?”

“Considering the fact that you’re telling me nothing? No. No I don’t.”

“It’s not about Seamus,” he repeated, taking a step closer to me. The room was so small that we were left only inches apart.

“So what is it about?”

For just a second, I thought I saw fear flash through Zac’s eyes. I didn’t understand what he was so afraid of; he should have known that I of all people would understand whatever he felt. In an instant, though, the fear was gone, and he was advancing on me. I thought he was going to punch me – for what, I had no clue – and I braced myself for it. But he didn’t punch me.

He kissed me.

He came at me with such force that I was knocked back against the bathroom door, pinned between it and his body. Zac’s lips were rough against mine, a little too aggressive for the kiss to be that great – not that kissing my brother should have been good in the first place. I never really claimed to have high morals, anyway. So I felt little remorse at all for dragging my tongue along Zac’s bottom lip, daring him to take the kiss a little further.

That seemed to be his breaking point, though. He pulled back so quickly he might have never been there at all, and shoved me to the side. I found myself pinned again – this time between the wall and the door. By the time I freed myself, Zac was long gone.

I knew there was no point in chasing him, so I walked back to the green room and grabbed a beer for myself. If Zac could drink before a concert, so could I. I fell down onto the couch and popped the top on the beer, taking a long sip. It wouldn’t help my judgment, I knew, but I didn’t think that anything at all would help me to make sense of what had just happened.

As I sipped the beer, I briefly wondered how many of our fans would be surprised at just how much alcohol we asked for at the venues we played. We actually started putting it on our rider before we were even legally able to drink it, just as a joke. To our surprise, they still provided it. People were all too eager to please us back then; sometimes I thought no one would even bat an eyelash if I asked the venues to stock the green room with hookers and blow. We didn’t even drink it ourselves, though. Most of it we gave to the roadies and the guys in our backup band. The rest just went to waste.

Except for one time, I remembered.

Suddenly, Zac’s actions made a lot more sense to me. I had almost blocked that night out of my memory – or maybe the alcohol had blocked it out for me – but now it was flooding back to me.

We were in South America, near the end of the tour. Our parents had kept the little ones at home for that portion of the tour, deciding it was just too much hassle and money to bring them all along. None of us were going to complain about that; we missed them, sure, but we liked the little bit more freedom we had without a troupe of little kids to keep up with.

One night, they made plans to go out alone, taking advantage of one of our few free days. Isaac was supposed to watch me and Zac, even though we insisted that at fifteen and seventeen, we really didn’t need babysitters. As it turned out, Isaac had made plans to meet up with some pretty girl one of the roadies had brought backstage. He made us promise that we wouldn’t tell Mom and Dad that he was leaving the hotel.

We weren’t stupid, though. Of course we wouldn’t tell them. And I had plans of my own. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but before we left the venue the night before, I stuffed my duffel bag full of all the Brazilian beer I could lay my hands on. It wasn’t the first time I had gotten drunk; I was getting pretty good at convincing people to sneak me drinks at all the stupid events the label made us attend. But it was the first time I had decided to let Zac join the party.

He had been hesitant at first, when I opened the hotel room refrigerator and showed him my stolen treasure. He shook his head and backed away, saying that he would just watch tv and let me do what I wanted. But I wanted to have fun, and I knew it would be no fun if one of us were sober. Eventually, I broke down his resolve and together we drank every stolen can.

Honestly, I don’t remember how things went downhill from there. Alcohol made him honest, I guess, and he admitted that he had almost gone all the way with Marion. He wanted to know what I had done, and in my drunken state, I admitted to every single girl… and the one guy. I still hadn’t admitted to myself what that meant – and I wouldn’t until Alex forced it out of me – but I couldn’t lie to Zac.

From there on out, the memory is hazy. Zac was curious, we were both drunk, and it all went to hell in a handbasket pretty quickly. I only remember bits and pieces – his chapped lips against mine, the way he blushed when I pulled his boxers down, the tiny little sounds he made when he came in my mouth. I was too drunk to even be ashamed of the way I ground myself against him, getting off without him ever laying a hand on me in return.

Maybe I blocked that memory out because there was just no good way to rationalize it, even for someone as apparently horrible as me. He was my _brother_. And evidently, he hadn’t blocked the memory out at all. I was beginning to think he had only wallowed in it, beating himself up for what we had done, and hating me for what I continued to do with everyone who wasn’t him.

The fact that Zac never seemed interested in women, dating or sex was beginning to make a lot more sense.

Unfortunately, gaining a new understanding of why Zac was acting so strange didn’t help me figure out how to deal with it. The fact that I had enjoyed kissing him only made it worse. I didn’t just have his feelings to consider; I had my own and Seamus’ as well. Whatever I did, I knew someone was going to get hurt. I was afraid it would be all of us.


	14. Normal

Naturally, Zac continued to ignore me after the venue bathroom incident. Of all possible outcomes, I supposed ignoring me was really the best thing he could do. If we weren’t speaking, then we weren’t yelling. And if we weren’t yelling, then I could convince Seamus that things were all better.

I’ll admit, I did feel a little guilt about lying to him.

I let him ignore me all the way through the drive to Raleigh and even during the concert itself. I let him continue to ignore me that night in the hotel, where I spent a nice relaxing evening watching late night television with Seamus. I should have let him continue to ignore me all the way to Kentucky, but at some point, I just couldn’t take it anymore. My curiosity got the best of me.

We drove through the afternoon and evening and slept on the bus outside the venue. Not a glamorous way to tour by any means, but it got the job done. Getting a hotel in every single city just wasn’t practical or affordable. On an average tour, we spent a lot more time sleeping on the bus, whether it was in motion or not, than anywhere else.

As usual, Zac occupied the back lounge of the bus for most of the drive. Usually, though, he gave up the video games – or at least turned the volume down – when everyone else went to bed. But not this night. It seemed he was determined to keep us all awake with the sounds of guns and lasers. Someone had to put a stop to it, and since I still had a bone to pick with him, I volunteered.

With a soda in hand – I considered it a peace offering – I shuffled to the back of the bus and offered it to Zac. He barely even acknowledged my presence, only glancing up at me enough to see what I had and snatch it from my hand.

Well, this was off to a great start.

“Zac,” I said, sitting down on the couch opposite the one he was sprawled across. “Do you think you could turn the volume down?”

That wasn’t really what I meant to say to him, but it was something. Maybe somehow I could steer the conversation in the direction I actually wanted it to go – namely, the big incestuous crush he had on me.

“I probably could. But I probably won’t.”

Classic Zac. I knew he wasn’t just being obtuse, though. He was angry with me for something I really couldn’t control, and he wasn’t content just to take that anger out on me. He had to make everyone suffer.

I sighed. “Zac… will you please turn the volume down and talk to me?”

“That’s an even less appealing idea,” he replied, but to my surprise, put the game on pause and turned around to face me.

We stared at each other for a moment, like we were both daring the other one to speak first and address the elephant in the room. Zac didn’t ever deal with his problems, though. I knew that. He ran from them, just like me. So he wouldn’t talk first; I had to. “Can we talk about what happened in Asheville?”

“Lots of things happened in Asheville, Tay.”

Now he definitely was just being obtuse. I rolled my eyes. “In the bathroom, Zac. What you did. You _kissed_ me.”

“I’m aware of what I did.”

“Don’t you think that’s something we should talk about?”

He shrugged. “What do you want me to say, Taylor? Do you want me to come out, waving my rainbow flag like you? Do you want me to confess my undying love for you? What do you want?”

“Nothing,” I replied. “Just to understand you.”

“Good luck. I don’t even understand me.”

There was a note of sadness in his voice when he said that, and without thinking, I walked over to his couch and sat down next to him. I realized that Zac had been keeping this huge secret for years, and I didn’t know how he hadn’t totally crumpled under the weight of it. My problems suddenly seemed minor compared to his. But I needed him to know that he wasn’t alone now; he could talk to me and never worry about being judged for whatever it was he felt.

Zac tensed beside me and I was afraid he would jump up and run away. To my surprise and relief, he didn’t. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I knew what I had to do, but I had no clue how to begin. I knew there were no right words, no right way to tell my brother that whatever he felt for me was okay.

How could I even explain that when I myself didn’t understand _why_ it was okay? But I had to. I was too stubborn to let Zac go on beating himself up for something that I had started.

“Zac,” I said, inching closer to him until our legs were just barely touching. “I wish you would talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

I sighed. “If you won’t talk, will you listen?”

“Probably not.”

“Good enough,” I replied. “Look, I don’t know what you’re going through. I mean, in a way I do. Whatever it is, whatever you’re feeling… it’s okay.”

Zac let out a hoarse laugh. “Right. It’s totally normal.”

“I didn’t say normal. I said okay,” I replied. Zac made a little sound at that, like a snort or a grunt, and I could tell that he didn’t like what I had said. A little softer, scooting a little bit closer to him, I added, “Look, you know I’m the last person in the world who cares about what’s normal or okay. I’m seriously the last person who will ever judge you for this. I just want to know that you’re happy.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking peachy, Tay.”

I actually jumped back slightly at his words. He was still putting up such a wall that it was almost physical, putting a real distance between us and making me want to run away from him. I was at least as stubborn as he was, though, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I know you’re not,” I said, my tone as soft and patient as I could manage. “I just want to know what I can do to fix it.”

“You can’t fix it. The damage is already done.”

Damage? Was that really how he saw it? Had I _damaged_ him that one stupid, drunk night? I supposed he was probably right. I should never have done that to him. How was I to know, though, when we never spoke of it again? It was as if it hadn’t happened at all. At least, it had been that way to me. Apparently it hadn’t been that way to Zac at all.

“Why did you do it, Tay?” Zac asked, his voice sounding tiny and far away. He looked and sounded much more like a child than my twenty four year old brother, and I was suddenly disgusted with myself. What had I done to us? To him?

“I was drunk,” I said, knowing even as the words came out of my mouth that it was no excuse at all.

Zac’s frown deepened, his forehead settling into heavy lines that I wanted to reach up and smooth out. “So you didn’t want to do it. You were just drunk.”

“I didn’t – that’s not what I said.” I sighed. I was digging myself a hole and I didn’t know how to get out. How could I get out at all, when I’d first taken up the shovel a decade ago?

“Sure sounded like it,” Zac said, looking away from me and crossing my arms. I couldn’t even fault him for such a childlike reaction; he had _been_ a child back then, after all.

I inched closer to him, even though I knew he probably wanted me anywhere but near him. “What I meant was, I didn’t think about what it meant or what it… _would_ mean. What it would do to us or to you. I just wanted to make you feel good, I guess. I was a dumb kid back then. You might have noticed.”

He let out a tiny little snort. “And you’re so much smarter now?”

I jumped back again, as if he’d actually lashed out at me physically and not just with his words. Zac had a way of always hitting where it really, really hurt, yet somehow it still always surprised me when his verbal jabs were aimed at me.

“I never said I was,” I replied, not even feeling like arguing with him. Usually I at least had it in me to throw a few insults back at him, but I just couldn’t do it when I knew he was right. “I’m sorry, Zac. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

“No. You shouldn’t have,” Zac said sharply, turning away from me completely and switching his video game back on.

I knew better than anyone how much he loved to have the last word, and I was fairly certain that was it. What more I could say, anyway? He was right. I shouldn’t have done it, I was an idiot, and the damage was done. Heaving a sigh, I pulled myself from the couch and strode toward the door. With my fingers around the handle, I turned back to look at Zac. He was already so engrossed in his game that he didn’t even notice I was still there.

I wanted to say something, anything at all, to him. But I couldn’t find the words. His brow was still furrowed, and I didn’t know whether it was from concentrating on his game or from being upset with me. I supposed it was probably both. He was biting down on his bottom lip so hard that I feared he might draw blood and I had the awful urge to lick it away if he did.

God, what was wrong with me?

It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed that Zac was attractive before. He was a good looking guy, and I always wondered why he didn’t seem to see that and why he was still single. Now I knew at least part of the reason for the latter, I supposed.

What bothered me, though, was that I didn’t just find him attractive. I was attracted _to_ him. And yes, there is a difference. I might be a bit of a slut, but I can appreciate a good looking guy or girl without wanting to sleep with them. At least, I thought I could. But when it came to Zac, I was quickly losing sight of that subtle distinction.

With one last look at him – he still hadn’t noticed my eyes lingering – I rushed from the back lounge before I let myself do something really stupid. I didn’t go to my bunk, though. And I didn’t go to Seamus’ bunk either. Instead, I decided that what I really needed was a long shower – both to clear my mind and for… other reasons.

I rushed to the tiny bus bathroom and began ripping my clothes off as soon as the door was shut behind me. I turned the shower on and gave it a few seconds to heat up before stepping under the spray. I should have taken a cold shower and tried to rid my mind of thoughts of Zac that way, but I wasn’t that strong. Not by a long shot. Which is why, nearly as soon as I was behind the shower curtain, my hand was around my cock.

I leaned my head against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I knew I was twisted, but this was a new low for me. Zac hated me, I was sure of it. Yet here I was, jerking myself off furiously, thinking about the way Zac’s lips had felt a few days before. I tried to commit every second of that kiss to my memory, because I highly doubted it would ever happen again. I had to remember it. And if I knew me, this wouldn’t be the only time I jerked off to thoughts of it.

My hand worked quickly, my breathing not slowing down a bit as I drew closer and closer to my orgasm. I was close, so close, and nearly shaking from anticipation. A knock at the bathroom door made me jump, and I banged my head right into the little shelf that held soap and shampoo.

“Fuck!” I yelled, my hand falling away from my cock. Whoever was at the door knocked again, louder.

“Tay?”

It was Zac.


	15. Drowning

I rubbed the sore spot on my head with one hand and attempted to wrap the shower curtain around myself with the other. The last thing I needed right then was for Zac to see how turned on I was or, god forbid, realize I had been jerking off to thoughts of him. He didn’t need to know the depths of my perversion. I didn’t need to drag him any further under with me.

Pulling my hand from my still aching head, I reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open just a crack – just enough to reveal a sliver of Zac’s body. I didn’t need to see any more than that and he definitely didn’t need a better view of me.

“What? Do you need the shower? I’m… almost done.” That was a lie. I hadn’t touched a washcloth, soap, or anything else of that sort. And I definitely didn’t feel clean, in any sense of the word.

He shook his head and took a step into the room. The little bus bathroom was so small that he barely had room to shut the door behind him. I couldn’t help noticing that he flipped the lock on it.

My heart beat so hard that I could feel it in my ears and I wondered if it sounded as defeaning to Zac as it did to me. What was he going to do? Beat me up? Take out all the pent up rage he obviously and rightfully had for me? Or maybe not the rage. Maybe the pent up sexual frustration. Rage seemed far more likely coming from Zac, but the way he stared into my eyes, breathing heavily but not speaking, told a different story.

“Zac?” I breathed out, and the sound of my own voice nearly made _me_ jump. Except for the still pounding spray of the shower and my heartbeat, the tiny room was totally silent.

He stared straight into my eyes, his full of some emotion I couldn’t place. His lip quivered, along with the rest of him, and I wondered if he wasn’t just going to run back out of the room without saying a word. He didn’t, though. Grabbing a fistful of the curtain wrapped around me, as if it might help steady him somehow, he closed the distance between us and crushed his lips against mine.

I let out a pathetic little whimper, kissing him back with little more than a second thought. It was horrible, I knew, and I should have stopped him, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Even if it was wrong, it seemed like the right thing to do, to finally give in to Zac and give him what I hadn’t realized he had wanted for years. It was just a little way for me to acknowledge how I had wronged him. I didn’t stop him at all when his tongue darted out to run across my bottom lip, then slip into my mouth.

He tasted like pot – no surprise there – but I didn’t mind. I didn’t even care that his lips were a little chapped or that I was certain water was puddling in the floor all around us. I grabbed his shirt and yanked him into the shower with me, and he didn’t resist at all even though he was quickly drenched.

Zac wasn’t fazed at all, though. He shoved me back against the shower wall, and I suddenly didn’t mind being the weaker brother. I tugged at his shirt, trying to rid him of it since it was so soaked that it stuck to his chest like a second skin. He paid me no mind, kissing down my neck and chest like a man on a mission.

I didn’t have to guess what that mission was. In seconds, Zac had fallen to his knees, his hands planted against the shower wall on either side of my hips. He glanced up at me for the briefest of moments, meeting my eyes with that same confusing mixture of emotions in his that I had seen earlier. I didn’t have much time to think about that, though. Too soon, his tongue was on my dick, ridding my mind of any thoughts other than that.

“Zac…” I gasped out, only vaguely aware that the only word I had said to him since he walked into the room was his name.

I really didn’t think I had it in me to be any more coherent than that, though. Especially not with the way Zac was working me with his tongue. Had he done this before? There was no way he came by that skill naturally. But Zac was always full of surprises. For all I knew, he had given a hundred guys head. I didn’t want to think about that, though. I only wanted to think about the way his mouth felt wrapped around my dick and _only_ my dick.

This was insane. Absolutely insane. But it felt so, so good. I’m not saying he was better than Seamus; it wouldn’t have even been far to compare them. The fact that it was so wrong, on so many levels, made it easily the hottest thing I had ever done. There was only a few thin walls and one locked door between us and a bus full of people who would definitely not understand or be okay with what was happening. At that moment, though, I didn’t care that we were absolutely defiling that poor bus shower.

I wanted more. I wasn’t going to ask Zac for it, though. I wasn’t going to ask him for anything. He could give and take whatever he wanted, and I would never, ever complain. I tangled my hand in his hair and moaned softly, incapable of doing or saying anything more to let him know how much I loved the way he was bobbing his head up and down, taking nearly my entire length in.

I leaned my head back against the shower wall, not caring about the water beating down on me and making me feel like I was drowning. It would have felt like that anyway, no matter where we had been. I wasn’t sure, at this point, whether I was pulling Zac under or if he had hold of me now, but we were definitely both sinking. I wanted to care about that, I really did. But it felt too good, too right. I wanted it to never end.

Unfortunately, Zac was too good and I was too turned on. I was growing closer and closer by the second, and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. I hoped he didn’t mind that it would be over so soon.

“Zac… I’m…” Well, at least I managed a word other than his name that time. I loosened my grip on his hair, unsure whether he would want to swallow or not.

He did, though. I shouldn’t have doubted him. My hips bucked toward him and he didn’t even flinch, just stared up into my eyes. That was all it took to pull me the rest of the way under. I gasped and bucked into Zac’s mouth, and he swallowed every drop.

Zac didn’t move until the last tiny little tremor was gone from my body and I thought I might fall to the floor, as useless as the puddles of water all around us. He didn’t let me fall, though. He held me tightly as he stood up and placed on quick but solid kiss to my lips.

He pulled back and stared into my eyes, his lip quivering like he was going to say something important. I stared at him breathlessly, almost afraid to hear whatever it might be.

“Go on,” he finally said, giving me a tiny nudge. “It’ll look weird if we walk out together.”

I had to replay his words a few times in my head to realize they were just practical instructions. There was no hidden meaning in them at all. I blinked a few times, certain that he would say something, anything else, but he didn’t.

Finally, I gave him a tiny nod and stepped out of the shower. The curtain was still open a sliver and I couldn’t help turning back to watch Zac peel off his soaked shirt and boxers and toss them at my feet. With his back to me, he stepped under the water’s spray and reached for the soap. I could have stood there forever and just watched him wash himself, but I was fully aware of how creepy that was. I had to draw the line somewhere, I supposed, and so I turned away and reached into the cabinet above the sink for a towel.

I kept my back turned to Zac as I dried myself, certain that if I allowed myself to turn around I would do something awful. If I let myself look at him again, I wouldn’t be able to walk out of the bathroom again until I’d committed a few more sins. I didn’t need to do that to either of us – or Seamus.

Seamus.

I had nearly forgotten about him entirely. How could he have slipped my mind so easily? Zac had descended on me and washed all thoughts of my _boyfriend_ from my mind. I couldn’t blame him, though. I had let it happen. I had feared – practically known – that I would find some way to screw up the good thing I had going with Seamus. That was what I did, wasn’t it? It shouldn’t have surprised me at all how easily I had slipped back into old habits.

He couldn’t know about this, I decided. He would never understand or forgive me. This _had_ to remain a secret. Without another word to Zac, or even a tiny glance in his direction, I wrapped the towel around my waist and took a deep breath. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. Mustering up all my courage, which wasn’t much, I unlocked the door and made my way back to my bunk.

My bunk. Not Seamus’. I knew I would have to answer for that in the morning, but at the moment, I didn’t care. I slipped on a pair of boxers under the towel then let it fall to the floor. I didn’t even care enough to pick it up before climbing into my bunk, the one tiny little place on the bus where I hoped I might have a little bit of privacy. It wasn’t as though I could lock myself in and keep everyone out, but for the most part everyone on our bus respected the closed curtain on someone’s bunk.

I knew I would have to answer for plenty eventually, though. Maybe not the next morning, and maybe not the day after that. It was foolish to think I could keep this a secret, though. The truth always came out; I had learned that lesson long ago. I tried not to think of all the horrible ways this truth might be revealed and what might happen in the aftermath.

The worst part, though, was that none of the awful scenarios I could dream up made me want to _stop_. I was too far gone, in too deep, to even consider not letting this thing with Zac continue.


	16. Sweat

That blow job in the shower changed something between me and Zac. I didn’t know if anyone else could see it or feel it, but I could. Seamus seemed none the wiser, and for that I was really thankful. If he gave me a strange look when he stumbled out of his bunk and found me already huddled over the coffee machine, I didn’t realize notice. He at least chose not to actually say anything about our night spent apart.

I don’t know what I would have said if he had asked me to explain. I definitely couldn’t tell him what happened with Zac. It was bad enough that I had proven right the fears I was sure he had about my ability to be faithful. The fact that I had done it with my own brother only made it worse. How could I expect anyone at all to understand that? I couldn’t, so I simply wouldn’t tell anyone.

I knew there was no way it could really be that simple, but for the moment I was trying really hard to convince myself that it could be.

It was disgustingly hot that afternoon – so hot that I seriously considered the possibility of canceling the walk just for my own comfort. I felt like I was drowning in my own sweat, far worse than during some our less air conditioned concerts, before we even stepped off the bus. But I pressed on, determined to go through with at least one normal thing that day, even when everything else felt so completely weird and wrong.

Seamus took the walk with us sometimes, when it didn’t clash with his soundcheck, but on that particular day he chose to stay inside in the air conditioning. I didn’t really mind. It just meant there was less time for him to see me being weird around Zac, which was I pretty sure was a given. How could I not be weird around my baby brother the day after he blew me in the bus shower? That was pretty much the definition of weird.

It was an unspoken rule that the three of us split up during the walks. That way, fans could sort of have their pick of who they followed and chatted with. We had realized long ago that most of the fans just saw the walks as moving meet and greets, so we figured it didn’t hurt to give them a little bit of what they wanted as long as we could still spread our message at the end.

What all that really meant was that as much I found myself wanting to, I couldn’t keep my eyes on Zac the whole time. I usually gravitated to the front of the walk, as I was the unofficial leader. Zac and Isaac seemed to alternate; one of them would bring up the rear while the other darted in and out of the rest of the line. Wherever Zac was that particular day, I couldn’t find him. It didn’t help that I had forgotten my sunglasses and in addition to being as hot as the face of the sun, Louisville was as bright as it, too.

When I finally made it to the end of the walk, I stepped up onto a curb so that I could survey the crowd for Zac. I don’t know why I was so intent on finding Zac, but it didn’t matter. He had found me. His eyes locked on mine as he shouldered his way through the crowd. I was pretty sure he nearly bowled a few fans over on his single minded quest to be near me. Finally, he found his way to me, standing halfway behind me so that he our bodies were touching as much as possible. In the past, I wouldn’t have noticed anything unusual about it at all, but now I knew just exactly how strange and _wrong_ this sort of contact was.

With Zac pressed up against me, I practically forgot all the words to my end of walk speech, which was just pathetic considering how many times I had said those same words. All I could think about was his body, though. I didn’t even care that he was sweaty, because God knows I was too. He shifted, and for the briefest moment I could feel his dick against me, straining against his jeans. I glanced over my shoulder and found him staring right back at me.

I kept a death grip on my megaphone, as though it could anchor me, and somehow managed to deliver the rest of my speech. I’m surprised it didn’t just devolve into some pornographic description of everything I wished Zac was doing to me, but luckily I managed to stay on topic. I think. I didn’t get any stranger stares than usual at the end, so I figured that was good enough to call it a success.

The crowd began to dissipate after I lowered my megaphone. Most of them wouldn’t wander far, I was sure, for fear of losing their place in line, but they moved enough to let us climb back onto the bus. As soon as we were inside, Zac headed straight for the back, his sanctuary against the world. When it seemed no one else was going to follow him, I headed that way as well.

He hardly even seemed to notice that I was behind him until I slid the door closed. That sound caught his attention and he spun around, his face strangely blank.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“What are _you_ doing?”

Zac blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Out there,” I replied, taking a few steps closer to him, noticing the way his chest rose and fell a little faster as I did so. “Standing so close to me. Pressing yourself all up on me.”

“You’re imagining things, Taylor,” he said, but I could see him tensing. “Not everyone wants you.”

“Oh, but you do,” I replied, punctuating the statement by closing the gap between us and sliding my hand across the front of his jeans. He couldn’t very well deny _that_.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve got a _boyfriend_ ,” he said, practically spitting out the last word. “Why don’t you at least try to be faithful to him?”

“You’re not making it very easy,” I admitted, immediately hating myself for it. The only thing I hated worse than being seen as vulnerable was _Zac_ seeing me as vulnerable. I didn’t think I could handle the level of smugness that would cause him to reach.

To my surprise, he didn’t appear smug at all. Instead he just sighed and brushed my hand away. “Yeah, well, neither are you.”

I didn’t know what to make of that at all, and I didn’t have a chance to ask. He shouldered past me and walked out of the room, leaving me standing in the middle of it, confused and alone.

I wasn’t alone for long, though. Before I even had time to collapse onto the couch, the door slid open and revealed Seamus. He leaned against the door frame and gave me a smile, but it soon fell from his face. I could only imagine what I looked like, but judging by the way Seamus was eying me, it wasn’t good. Despite the odd expression on his face, he crossed the room quickly and wrapped his arms around me – reminding me in just one move that he was a far better man than I was.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brushing a lock of my hair out of my face.

I was suddenly self-conscious about how disgustingly sweaty I must have been, but Seamus didn’t seem bothered so I didn’t pull away. I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Nothing. It’s not a big deal.”

“Long walk? Annoying brothers?”

I let out a snort. “Yeah, something like that. Nothing you need to worry about, I promise.”

It was amazing how easily I could let the lies roll off my lips. It was a skill I had acquired years ago and honed to perfection so that it happened without even having to think about it first. Now I found myself feeling guiltier than I ever had about the lies, though. But how could I tell him the truth and expect him to still hold me like this?

“Are you sure?” He asked, his brow furrowing. A second later, a tiny smirk passed across his lips. “I don’t need to go rough Zac up a bit, do I?”

Somehow, I doubted the mental image that inspired was exactly what he intended. I choked out a laugh, but it sounded pathetically forced. If Seamus noticed, at least he saw fit not to remark on it. Instead, he just kissed my cheek.

“Come on, now,” he said. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Zac’s just… Zac.”

Far from the most eloquent statement I’d ever made, but it seemed to suffice. Seamus nodded his head as though he completely understood what I meant. I’m sure on some level, he _did_ know how strange Zac was; anyone could see that, after all. He didn’t really know just how strange he was though, or, consequently, how strange _I_ was.

I hoped that he never knew.

It was the coward’s way out to keep those things hidden from him, but it was also self-preservation. I wanted to keep Seamus, not scare him away with my depravity. As he held me and pressed kisses to the side of my face, I could only think about how good it felt to be with someone who actually meant something to me. It had been years since I’d let myself really _feel_ something for another person. I didn’t want it to end so soon.

Brushing his lips against my ear, Seamus asked, “Why don’t we go take a shower, hmm? Wash off some of that walk sweat?”

The idea of showering with Seamus was appealing, but as soon as I let myself think about it, my mind filled with images of my shower with Zac. How had that been only the night before? It seemed like ages ago. A lump formed in my stomach and I tried to wiggle free of Seamus’ grip.

“Maybe later,” I said, offering him my best apologetic smile. “We’ve gotta get to this in store thing. But I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Alright,” he replied with a smile. “I’m holding you to that.”

I tried to return his smile. I hadn’t really lied to him, after all. Sure, it hadn’t been entirely the truth. But it wasn’t a lie. Either way, it was far, far too easy to deceive him. The guilt already seemed to be eating me up inside, but I didn’t know what else to do to keep him by my side.


	17. Douchebags

I didn’t have a chance to talk to Seamus again before the concert that night. I didn’t like it. Every second I was away from him and closer to Zac – although never that close – my anxiety grew. When I was with Seamus, everything felt okay and I really believed that I could be faithful to him. But when I was with Zac, I seemed to forget all of that.

I stood in the wings during Seamus’ set and watched him perform and it soothed my worries a little. There was an odd tension in the venue that night that I didn’t think was just my imagination. It was one of the smaller venues we had played on this tour; smaller and overall crappier than nearly every venue on the schedule for this tour, in fact. We hadn’t had much choice, though, if we wanted to play in Kentucky. Being crammed in so closely with all of our crew and the venue staff seemed to be fraying everyone’s nerves.

When Seamus finished his set, he hurried off to my side of the stage. He still wore his guitar, so we couldn’t get that close, but he paused by me for a moment and grasped my hand. It wasn’t enough for me, really, but I supposed it would have to do. We would have plenty of time together after the show.

“Break a leg,” he said, giving me a grin and leaning in just a bit closer. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. He just grinned a little wider, squeezed my hand, and walked away.

I suddenly became aware of the presence of a few of the venue guys. I hadn’t noticed that they were just standing around being useless so near me, but apparently they were. We had had some pretty shitty encounters with the event staff at venues before, but these guys hadn’t been so bad – just very lazy and obviously not all that happy to be working a Hanson concert. That was nothing new and definitely nothing we hadn’t dealt with before.

Something seemed different this time, though. I noticed one of them whisper something to another one, then nod his head in my direction. Were they talking about me? It seemed pretty obvious that they were, but I felt conceited for assuming it. Then again, as I’m sure Zac would have pointed out if he’d been around, I _am_ conceited.

They were definitely talking about me, though. The second guy glanced my way and laughed a little, evidently amused by whatever the first one said. He muttered something back to the first guy, and then they both laughed. Awesome. There’s nothing better than venue staff who think we’re just a joke.

Then I remembered. Seamus held my hand.

Great. Fucking great. Maybe they didn’t see it, but what were the chances that they found something _else_ about me – although granted, there is plenty – to laugh about right after seeing me with my boyfriend?

I could already tell it was going to be a great night, and we hadn’t even begun our set. Speaking of which, Muff chose that exact moment to walk up with my mic pack, a triumphant look on his face. It had been malfunctioning earlier but I really wasn’t concerned about it yet. There was plenty of time to fix it.

“Alright, get this on,” he said, handing it to me. “You guys are on in just about fifteen minutes.”

Was that all? Shit. Then again, it got me away from those two douchebags, so I couldn’t complain very much. I gave Muff a smile and took the mic pack from him, clipping it onto my belt as I walked away to find the rest of the band, who were no doubt already warming up and getting ready for the pre-show huddle.

Since the venue was so small, it didn’t take me very long to find everyone. Just as I suspected, they were already finished with their vocal warmups – I had luckily done mine before Seamus went onstage – and were huddling together for our last little ritual before the beginning of the show. I squeezed in between Isaac and Demetrius. Zac shot me a strange look, but didn’t say anything, and no one else seemed to have even noticed that I was a little late.

The huddle is a time honored tradition on our tours. We say something vaguely resembling a prayer, then attempt to get each other pumped up for the show. It all ends with a reminder not to suck, and on that particular night, I was positive that Zac gave me a special little look when _those_ words left his mouth.

I really didn’t know what the hell his problem was, but I didn’t have much time to think about it. With a cheer that no one but us could possibly duplicate, we broke the huddle and began to head to our various spots on the side of the stage. Zac and I wove our way through the backstage area toward the left side of the stage, dodging various members of our crew and the venue staff. One of the latter bumped me with his shoulder – _hard_ – as I passed him, and it was enough to make me stop in my tracks and stare back at him as he walked on.

“What is it?” Zac asked.

I glanced back at him and shook my head. He hadn’t seen, I supposed, and I wasn’t totally convinced that it wasn’t all in my imagination.

“Nothing. Just, um... checking my mic pack,” I lied, patting the pack in the hopes of packing the lie look at least vaguely convincing.

It was good enough for Zac, I guess, because he just shrugged and walked away. I really didn’t want to deal with him being mad at me and everyone at the venue being douchebags, too, but that seemed how things were going. But as soon as the lights went down to signal the beginning of the show, all those thoughts and worries left my mind.

There really is nothing like playing a concert to get my mind off everything that’s been plaguing it. That was definitely the case on that particular night. I poured every ounce of my frustration and confusion into my performance, and if you ask me, it sounded pretty damn good. I got so wrapped up in how good it felt, in fact, that it seems like only seconds have passed when our first set is over and we’re hurrying off stage to let the crew set up for our acoustic set.

The first person I saw when I got off stage was Seamus, and immediately I felt my stomach drop. That’s exactly the opposite of the reaction I should have had to him, and it only made me feel even worse to realize that. I really just couldn’t win.

“Hey, you,” he said, giving me that grin that usually turned me insides to mush. “You’re killing ‘em out there, as usual. And back here.”

He leaned in a little closer at that last, leaving no doubt that he was referring to himself. I opened my mouth to reply, even though I had no clue what to say, but nothing comes out except for a pained squeak.

Someone _definitely_ just crushed my left foot under what felt like a steel toed boot. I glanced around in time to see that same douchebag who shoved me out of his way earlier walked by with a microphone stand. What the hell is his problem?

“You alright?” Seamus asked, frowning. “Did that guy just…”

He trailed off, presumably just as confused and incredulous as I was. I really didn’t know what these guys had against me, although I had a sneaking suspicion that only seemed to grow into certainty the longer I stood there so close to Seamus.

It’s not like I ever tried to hide my sexuality once I accepted it myself. If people wanted to speculate about it, I let them. The only people who I ever told the truth to were people I cared about, and the rest of the world were free to draw their own conclusions. So far, that method have served me well; sure, I was often the butt of people’s jokes, but that started long before I even knew I was bisexual. It’s never truly been that malicious. Or if it was, I’ve never noticed. I couldn’t help seeing it that night, though.

Soon enough, though, the crew finished setting up for our acoustic set and we all rushed back on stage. The rest of the show went by in just as much of a blur as the first portion of it did. I wished it would slow down a little so that I could actually enjoy it. And I’ll admit, I was dreading any more potential run-ins with those douchebags, too. I could hold my own in a fight with Zac or Isaac, but I didn’t think I stood much of a chance against any of those steroid driven idiots. I hated myself for even thinking it could come to that, but anything was possible.

Somehow, despite my worried thoughts, I made it through the show without any major fuck ups. It all seemed to go really, really smoothly, in fact. I knew I wasn’t just imagining things, either. The crowd was extra loud at the end, despite being arguably the smallest audience we had had all tour. And when we made our way backstage, I could see smiles all around – at least from the other guys and our crew.

There was definitely still a strange tension all around us, and I knew that while part of it was whatever had happened between me and Zac earlier, the biggest part of it was because this venue was apparently Homophobia Central. I tried not to think about it very much, though. We still had the meet and greet and reporter interview to get through.

Unfortunately, we had planned to do those in the venue. I suggested that we move to the bus, but Machine quickly informed me that the bus was parked way too close to the venue and was already surrounded by fans. There was no way we could get out there and barricade ourselves inside for the interview without having to stop and sign a billion autographs first. And since it would have been rude to leave these chosen fans waiting, we were forced to hold the meet and greet on the stage.

It went as well as it could have, I supposed. I’m sure the asshole who walked by singing an uninspired, off key and inaccurate version of Mmmbop thought he was really funny. If he heard Zac’s mumbled cuss words as he walked away, he didn’t say or do anything to let it show. That was good. I knew Zac had a temper, and he really didn’t need any reason to show it off that night.

Soon, but not as soon as I would have liked, we had signed everything offered and answered every question asked. While Bex huddled the fans outside, Machine informed us that we had time to take very quick showers if we wanted before heading outside to face the crowd. Isaac and Zac both opted to wait, but I suddenly realized that I was absolutely _disgusting_. I couldn’t very well make things up to Seamus if I smelled like a locker room full of football players after a big game. Not that I would have any clue what that really smelled like, but I could imagine that it was quite similar to my stench right then.

The shower did made me feel much better. The warm water seemed to wash away everything that was stressing me out, so that by the time I emerged from the bathroom in clean clothes, toweling my hair dry, I felt like a new man. It sounds cheesy, but it’s the truth.

Seamus was the first person I thought of when I stepped back out into the green room, but he was nowhere to be found. In fact, I couldn’t find anyone at all. The venue was eerily quiet and for a brief moment, I wondered if everyone had left without me. But why would they have done that? It was completely ridiculous.

I made my way through the hallways, looking for anyone at all who I might know. I couldn’t seem to find anyone, though, and the venue was still far quieter than it had any right to be. I didn’t see a single person or hear a single sound until I reached the side of the stage and swept the curtain back. That first sound was the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting with a face.

And the first person I saw? Zac. Followed quickly by that douchebag who had crushed my foot.


	18. Fucking Fags

That douchebag didn’t look quite so tough right then, reeling back away from Zac and clutching at his face. In fact, he looked equal parts confused, embarrassed and angered. The anger won out, I suppose, because he soon turned his raised hand into a fist and launched it at Zac.

I was rooted on the spot, unable to even believe what was happening in front of me. Zac dodged the first punch, somehow, but I knew that I couldn’t just stand there and let Zac fight this guy. I had to break the fight up. If not me, then _someone_ definitely needed to put a stop to it.

When the guy actually did manage to land a punch to Zac’s face, I snapped out of my trance. I leaped forward and wrapped my arms around Zac from behind, pulling him back with as much force as I could manage. At the same time, some of the other venue staff seemed to materialize out of thin air, and they restrained the other guy.

“Let me go!” Zac growled, turning his head to glare at me. He didn’t even seem surprised that I was the one to come to his rescue – just angry.

He struggled to get free of my grip, and I knew I wasn’t strong enough to hold him if he really wanted free. Seamus appeared by my side – I guess the fight had been loud enough to attract some attention – and placed his own hand firmly on Zac’s shoulder. It wasn’t much, but I greatly appreciated any help.

“Zac, just chill out,” I said. “Whatever it is, it is so not worth fighting over.”

I had a feeling I knew what it was, though. I just didn’t want to give a voice to it. I had naively hoped that those homophobes would stay relatively civil, but I supposed that was just too much to wish for.

“Yeah, whatever,” Zac finally said, jerking free of us and stalking off.

At least he wasn’t going back to finish the fight, I decided. The other guy was still fuming on the other side of the stage, surrounded by his coworkers. Zac was probably going to have an impressive black eye, but this guy looked like he had been run over by a truck. That was my little brother for you. I was pretty sure Zac hadn’t lost a fight since he was about twelve and still slightly smaller than me. He might not have finished this fight, but from the looks of things, he had still won.

“Can’t believe you got your ass handed to you by some fucking fag,” one of the other guys mumbled.

 _Some fucking fag?_ That took me by surprise, for some reason. It shouldn’t have, though. All three of us had been called plenty of names over the years just because of who we were – or rather, who people thought we were. Maybe their animosity tonight hadn’t had anything in particular to do with me after all.

Shay’s hand on my shoulder reminded me that he was still there by my side. I turned to face him, offering him an apologetic smile. I hated that he had stepped into the middle of this fight with Zac. It certainly couldn’t have improved his opinion of my little brother, and it probably didn’t do much for the animosity Zac was harboring for both me and Seamus.

“Sorry about that,” I said, letting Seamus steer me off the stage and away from the scene of the crime, as it were. “Zac has kind of a short temper… I may have mentioned that. Or you may have noticed.”

“I think I’ve noticed, yes,” he replied, smirking. “Don’t worry about it. We all survived.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, we survived this _one_.”

“I’m sure it’s out of his system by now,” Shay said, holding the side door to the venue open for me.

I hoped he was right. Maybe kicking that guy’s ass would make Zac feel better and fix whatever he was so upset about. I knew part of the problem was me and the way I had confronted him earlier. I had been a major asshole. But when wasn’t I an asshole? He couldn’t beat me up for that every single time it happened. He had probably considered it, though.

Seamus and I walked onto the bus together, and as much as I wanted to just cuddle up with him somewhere, I knew I probably needed to talk to Zac first. I dreaded it, but it seemed unavoidable. Once the bus door was closed behind us, I gave him another apologetic smile and maybe just a hint of puppy dog eyes.

“I’m gonna go check on Zac, okay? But I promise I’ll be back soon…”

Seamus looked a little upset, but he nodded and kissed my cheek. “Yeah, go on. I’ll be here.”

I ignored the jeers and requests to “get a room” from the various others scattered around the front of the bus and walked away, leaving Seamus to deal with them. I knew none of them really meant anything by it.

No one in our band or on our crew was really homophobic. It wasn’t a requirement to work for us, but my… habits… tended to weed out the close minded ones over time. Whatever they said to Seamus in my absence wouldn’t be anything more than a harmless joke or possibly a genuine question about when our relationship had started. It occurred to me that I hadn’t really told anyone about him, aside from Isaac and Zac, but I supposed he was probably more prepared to field questions about it than I was. He could handle himself while I attempted to handle Zac.

As I expected, Zac was in the back of the bus, already plugged into one of his video games. I guess he didn’t plan on going out to greet any fans that night. I couldn’t say that I blamed him; if I’d had an obvious black eye forming, I would have stayed hidden on the bus, too, and avoided their questions. As soon as I locked eyes with him, Zac sprang up from the couch and lunged toward me.

“What the fuck is your problem, Tay?!”

Well, _that_ wasn’t the reaction I was expecting from him, although perhaps it should have been.

“What’s _your_ problem?” I countered, instinctively backing away from him even though he hadn’t thrown a punch yet. “You didn’t need to fight that guy.”

“I disagree,” Zac said, gritting his teeth. “And I don’t really care what you think I should do.”

“People are always going to talk shit about us. You can’t beat them all up,” I said, trying to sound steadier and braver than I felt.

“I can try.”

I rolled my eyes. I knew Zac was capable of rational thought, but there were times when he seemed to be ruled by nothing but his temper. Why couldn’t he see that it didn’t fix anything to just beat people up? Especially if I was part of the reason he had started this fight. Nothing says “he’s a fairy” like your little brother defending your honor.

“But what’s the point?” I asked, my voice somewhere between a growl and a whine. “Douchebags like him are always going to talk about us. You think I want to beat up every guy who calls me gay?”

“I don’t really care whether you do or not.”

“Yeah, well you should! I don’t need you beating up guys just because they saw me holding hands with my boyfriend.”

Zac cringed at that last word, his face turning sad for just a second before flashing back to anger. Lots and lots of anger. I had a feeling that somehow, I had chosen my words really poorly.

“You really think that’s what happened?” Zac asked, but didn’t even give me a chance to reply before continuing. “I don’t know what they saw your dumb ass doing. I know this might be shocking, but not everything in the world is about you.”

“I didn’t say that everything was!” I practically screeched. It really wasn’t one of my manlier moments, and it probably did nothing toward proving that I neither needed nor wanted Zac to defend me.

“You sure as hell implied it,” Zac replied. “I don’t know what that guy saw you do, okay? All I know is what he said to me, and I didn’t appreciate it. He was insulting _all_ of us. What, did you really think I was just defending your honor or some shit?”

“I didn’t—” I stopped myself before I could finish the sentence, because it would have been a complete lie. That was exactly how I had thought of it in my mind, wasn’t it? And _wasn’t_ he? I was suddenly very confused. I thought back to what the other guy had said after the fight. “Look, Zac… it’s not the first time someone has called us fags, is it? What’s the big deal?”

He stared at me as thought it should have been obvious, but it just wasn’t. What was I missing? What had caused Zac to snap tonight, of all nights, when he usually hurled a few insults back and then promptly forgot he had been insulted in the first place? He might have had a temper, but he usually knew how to pick his fights and how to just let some things go.

“What is it, Zac?” I asked, unsure what I was even asking, but knowing that I needed answers.

“Tay… he wasn’t exactly wrong about me.”

I blinked. He wasn’t wrong about _what_?

Zac just stared back at me. “Tay, I _am_ a fucking fag.”

I still only blinked dumbly at him. I’m not sure why that came as such a shock to me. It made a certain kind of sense; after all, he _had_ given me head just the day before. That sort of thing hinted at a guy not really being straight. But how could I have just not known that my own brother was gay?

“Like I said,” Zac said, pulling me out of my trance. “Not everything in the world is about you. If you realized that, maybe you’d notice other people’s problems, too.”

He turned his back on me then and busied himself with his video game, effectively ending the conversation and, as usual, ensuring that he had the last word. Not that I had any words for him right then, anyway. It was one of those rare moments when something actually managed to render me speechless.

I turned around and slid the door open, then began the not nearly long enough walk back to the front of the bus. How was I going to explain this to Seamus? No. It wasn’t mine to explain. Zac could come out when he was ready; it wasn’t my place to force, or even nudge, him out of the closet.

 _The closet. Come out._ It felt so weird to apply those terms to Zac. He was my little brother. And, apparently, he was gay.


	19. Scalding

Seamus slept soundly beside me that night. I don’t know how we managed it, but most nights the two of us were crammed into either his or my bunk, all six feet or more of us, curled up like pretzels just to get closer together. I couldn’t very well turn him away that night, after promising him we would spend some time together after I talked to Zac, but the whole time we were together, my mind was elsewhere. Every touch of Seamus’ hands or lips reminded me of Zac and made my stomach turned somersaults. I felt horrible, but I knew that I still couldn’t explain any of it to Seamus even if I had wanted to.

How had this become my life?

Sure, I had kept secrets before. I had kept lots of secrets before I finally said fuck it and started to let my true colors show. It was just easier to be myself and not care what anyone thought. I still tried to keep certain things – the details of my sex life and my sloppier drunk nights, for example – out of the public eye, but I was far from being a closed book.

Zac, though. Zac wasn’t just a closed book. His book had been closed, locked and thrown into a fire. We might have been, for all intents and purposes, closer than either of us were to Isaac, but I was realizing that didn’t mean I actually knew a damn thing about him. Hadn’t I always wondered why he stayed single? I knew why _I_ did, but Zac never even seemed all that interested in even dating.

As I lay awake next to Seamus, listening to his soft snores, I finally had my answer to the riddle of Zac.

The heat in Nashville the next day was brutal. It was so hot that I couldn’t think about anything but my rapidly blistering feet and the dirty sidewalks. The fans’ complaints often angered me, but that day I could completely understand. Somehow, though, I felt like I _deserved_ it. It was some strange sort of penance for my sins – those I had committed _and_ those I had a feeling I was going to commit.

Seamus actually joined us for the walk that day, and I was pleased that at least he didn’t seem to have any complaints about the heat. He seemed to be in a really good mood, in fact. That only served to make me feel worse. I didn’t feel any guilt, however, about shamelessly using Seamus as a buffer zone between myself and Zac. I don’t think I cast even once glance in Zac’s direction during any of my speeches.

I knew I was being silly, but I didn’t know what to say to him yet. It shouldn’t have been an issue at all. So he was gay. Big deal. But obviously, to him, it was a big deal. It had been so long since I had battled those demons that I didn’t think I had any comforting words for him. So, it would seem, I had chosen not to give him any words at all.

Of course, I couldn’t keep that up all day.

After the walk, I had to part ways with Seamus so that he could do his soundcheck. I considered getting a drink or something to eat; the Wild Horse was a pretty decent restaurant in addition to one of our favorite concert venues. It was a stark contrast from the day before when we were crammed into a tiny venue with staff that obviously didn’t want us there. Compared to that disaster, walking the halls of all three stories of the Wild Horse felt like wandering around a five star hotel.

I didn’t feel particularly hungry, though, and I had a feeling drinking so early in the afternoon wasn’t the best idea. Instead, I opted to take a shower and wash off all the sweat and grime of the walk, even though it would all be replaced by the end of the show. It gave me something to do that wasn’t talking to Zac; I was finding that I had a real talent for delaying the inevitable.

I was the exact opposite of surprised to find Zac walking around the third floor green room, a towel slung over his shoulder and his hair still damp from a recent shower. The sight of him still stopped me in my tracks, but not from surprise. At least, I wasn’t surprised to see him; I was surprised at the effect the sight had on me. When had I gone from acknowledging that Zac was attractive to being completely floored by the sight of him? I suspected that it had something to do with his mouth wrapped around my –

That line of thought was doing absolutely nothing to calm my racing heart or stop certain other physical reactions.

“Tay?”

I blinked. “Hmm?”

“Are you… just going to stand there?”

“I was…” I stuttered out, feeling like a complete idiot. It was bad enough when Seamus turned me into a blubbering fool, but my own brother? I struggled to remember why I had walked into the green room. “I was, umm… going to take a shower.”

“Go right ahead, then,” he replied, his tone obviously clipped. Was he upset with me?

I took a few steps closer to him. I had to, anyway, because my bag with a change of clothes was on the couch next to him. I was testing the waters, trying to see if Zac would even let me get that close to him. My confidence increased when he didn’t seem bothered at all to find me standing next to him.

“Zac…” I said, then cleared my throat and tried to collect my thoughts. He raised an eyebrow, but barely even looked my way. “I just… I’m sorry I kind of forced that out of you last night. But you know I’m cool with it. I mean, it’s _me_ you’re talking to. So… if you wanna talk or whatever…”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

I blinked. I thought I saw a hint of kindness in his eyes, but his words were the exact opposite. I had no idea what to make of it, but it was obvious that he definitely did not want to talk about it. He left me no other choice but to gather up my clothes, grab a towel from a nearby table and make my way to the bathroom. Hopefully a hot shower would scald away the rest of my worries that hadn’t been burnt out of me during the walk.

I turned the shower up as hot as I could possibly get it without _actually_ causing myself third degree burns. It was tempting, though. Much like everything else about this venue, the bathroom and shower were very nice, so I was able to get a pleasingly hot stream of water going and I let it wash over me for a few minutes, just savoring it before actually washing myself. The sooner I was clean, the sooner I would have to face anyone outside of this little, but comforting, bathroom.

Over the steady sound of water falling, I barely even heard the doorknob turn and the door being pushed open. Through the frosted shower door, I noticed movement and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned the shower down a bit and called out, “Sorry, I must have forgotten to lock the door. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“I’ll wait,” came the reply, and I immediately recognized Zac’s voice.

“I thought you had already showered?”

“Yeah, well… I want to talk.”

His voice was so low that I was certain at first that I had heard him wrong. “You want to talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay…” I replied, finding myself intrigued enough to speed up a little. Turning the shower back up and squeezing a little shampoo into my hand, I said, “Just give me a few minutes, alright?”

He mumbled something that I figured was okay, and I returned my attention to the shower. I couldn’t help glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, though. The entire time it took me to wash my hair and run a bar of soap haphazardly over my body, Zac remained leaning against the sink. I didn’t know what was so urgent that he needed to talk about it right then, but I was going to do the right thing and let him talk.

Normally, I wouldn’t have felt the need to even attempt to be modest in front of Zac. He was just my brother, after all. What did I care if he caught a glimpse of me naked before I wrapped the towel around my waist? Things had changed, though. I opened the shower stall only a sliver and reached for the towel, wrapping it securely around my waist before stepping out into the bathroom to face Zac.

“What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound calm and casual when I felt anything but.

He glanced down at the floor and chewed on his bottom lip. I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch that lip, or even capture it between my own teeth, but somehow I managed to resist.

“It’s just… well, now you know, I guess,” he finally said.

“Yeah,” I replied. “And I told you, it’s no big deal. I mean, after everything else, you being gay isn’t really…”

“What, a surprise?” He asked, finally glancing up and giving me the tiniest of smirks. “I guess not. Not after…”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing exactly what he was referring to without him actually saying it. It only took the briefest, vaguest mention of it for my mind to fill with images of him on his knees in front of me. The towel around my waist was suddenly feeling a lot tighter.

Zac noticed, of course. His eyes flickered downward at that exact moment. I bit back a giggle at the way they widened. Despite what he had done to me in the shower, I couldn’t help seeing someone so _innocent_ when I looked at Zac. It would take a lot of evidence to the contrary to change that.

Although his face was a little red when he looked back up at me, there was nothing innocent in his eyes. He looked… well, I couldn’t find a word for it, other than needy. He almost seemed to be asking me permission when he stepped forward, and although I wasn’t sure what he wanted permission for, I feared that he already had it without even asking. When his hand brushed against the thin material of the towel, finding my cock easily, I found myself totally incapable of telling him to stop.

“You still think it’s no big deal?” Zac asked, leaning in so close that his lips brushed against the side of my face.

I couldn’t answer him. I didn’t have an answer at all, and I certainly couldn’t be expected to think of one with his hand sliding under the towel to wrap around my cock and his lips – his _gorgeous_ lips – touching my face. So, instead of speaking, I just grabbed his face and turned it toward me so I could crush my lips against his. I gave in to that desire to nibble on his bottom lip and he rewarded me with the most beautiful whimper I’d ever heard.

I’m not sure if it was him, me or both who walked us back against the sink. I barely even registered the move until I felt the sudden jolt of his body bumping into it. Somewhere between where we had been and there, my towel had fallen off completely and my hands had found their way under the waistband of Zac’s jeans to return the favor. His cock was straining against the fabric and I fumbled to lower the zipper and shove his pants down. I had some perverse desire just to _see_ him, even if he let me do nothing else.

And he was _big_ – thicker than I was and at least as long. Just looking at him made my mouth water and I began trailing desperate kisses down his neck. I wanted nothing more than to return the favor he had granted me just a few short days ago. It seemed like ages had passed since that blow job.

“Tay,” Zac said, his voice a desperate whine. “Please…”

I pulled back and stared at him, unsure what he was asking for. Didn’t he see that I was on my way there?

“Please don’t…” He said, then shook his head and chewed on that beautiful lip again. “I mean, I want you to _fuck_ me.”

I blinked. He wanted _what_? So much for any illusions I had about my baby brother being innocent. Then again, did he really know what he was asking for? I wanted to ask him that very question, but his next move rendered me utterly speechless. He kicked his jeans and boxers off and spun around, placing his hands on the sink’s ledge and baring his ass to me.

It was an invitation I found myself utterly powerless to refuse.

Zac barely even trembled when I stepped in closer and let my dick brush against his flesh. If he was nervous, he wasn’t letting it show. I had the sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t his first time, but I still wanted to be gentle with him. I ran one hand under the shirt he hadn’t bothered to remove and brought the other hand to his lips. Without me even speaking, he knew what I wanted. I couldn’t help watching him in the mirror, and I let out a pathetic moan at the sight of his lips wrapped around my finger, sucking it just like he had my dick.

I pressed my finger into him slowly and gently and earned myself a moan in return. That was a good sign. His head fell back and he panted as I continued to work my finger in and out of his ass.

“More,” he gasped out. “I can take it.”

Okay, _definitely_ not his first time. That answered that question, I supposed. Ever one to please my partners, I slid in a second finger. It wasn’t long before he was begging again, and again, I couldn’t tell him no.

I knew it was wrong, but there was no fighting it. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the mirror. The way his face contorted as I slid into him was easily the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Our every movement together seemed amplified as it was reflected back to me. I slipped my hand around to stroke Zac in time with my thrusts, knowing I wouldn’t last long and hoping he wouldn’t mind if I could at least get him off at the same time.

Neither one of us really did last that long. Before I could truly register what was happening, Zac was staring right into my eyes – or, more accurately, the reflection of them – and calling out my name as he came. Just the sight of it, his body covered in sweat and his eyes burning into mine, sent me over the edge.

Within seconds, we parted. His body was hot, too hot, like it might scald me if I stayed too close. Zac busied himself with cleaning up our mess while I fumbled to put my clothes on. I didn’t know how we were going to explain this to anyone who might see us walk out of the bathroom together. I didn’t know how we were going to keep this a secret at all. How could we, when it felt like he had been branded onto my skin?


	20. Hell

I don’t remember a single thing about the concert that night. It was a good show, I think, but my mind was occupied with other thoughts. How could I focus on the concert at all when all I could see when I closed my eyes was Zac’s reflection in that mirror? Every time he sang, it sounded just like those soft moans I had caused him to make.

What the hell was I _doing_?

I had done plenty of things I wasn’t proud of over the years. I really had. What I had done with Zac hadn’t felt wrong at all – at least, not while it was happening. As soon as I left the stage and practically fell into Seamus’ arms, though, all the reasons why I was a horrible person came crashing down on me. Seamus was his usual cheerful self, showering me with compliments for a show well done, yet all I could think about was my _brother_.

I was definitely going to hell.

I wasn’t even sure I _believed_ in hell, but if anything could persuade me to believe in eternal damnation, cheating on my boyfriend with my brother was definitely it. When we ran back onstage for our encore, I tried not to look Zac’s way at all. It was pointless. I could feel his eyes burning into me even without turning around. We ended the show with our traditional stage jump, and it was just my luck that I stumbled and rolled right into Zac’s side. He hopped right up and offered me his hand. It would have been a totally innocent move under other circumstances, but I could see something different in his eyes. I wondered if anyone else could see.

Seamus was still waiting right by the stage, ready to sweep me up into his arms, but I shrugged him off with little more than a quick kiss. I couldn’t be near him right then. I just couldn’t. I excused myself to take a shower, not even caring that I had already taken one that day. Maybe a second shower would wash the rest of my sins away.

The shower didn’t help at all, and because of my fantastic lack of foresight, I had to put the same sweaty clothes on just as soon as I got myself clean. Both mentally and physically, the shower had been totally pointless. I didn’t have the energy or desire to speak to anyone at all after that. After telling Ike that he and Zac could deal with signing autographs without me, I shoved all my stuff into my bag and hurried to the bus as quickly as I could, hoping that I wouldn’t have to interact with anyone else for the rest of the night.

As soon as I walked onto the bus, I headed straight for the refrigerator and pulled out one of the beers I knew was waiting on me there. We always kept the bus stocked up on two things – soda and beer. We were nothing if not predictable addicts. I popped the tab on the can and chugged half of it at once; there was no one around to judge me for it.

“Getting drunk, are we?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Seamus’ voice. Where had he come from? I spun around and saw him leaning against the door frame that separated the bunks from the front of the bus. I wondered how long he had been there and how he had managed to sneak up without me noticing. I supposed I had been caught up in my own mind, though.

“Yeah,” I replied, letting out a small chuckle. “I guess. Not really, though. Just… umm, thirsty?”

“I can see that,” he replied, letting out a chuckle of his own.

He stepped in closer to me and took the can from my hand, draining the rest of it himself. I couldn’t help watching his every move; even something as simple as drinking a beer managed to look absolutely beautiful when Shay did it. How could I possibly find any reason to want something – or someone – other than this gorgeous man in front of me? Yet… I did.

“So, what are we celebrating? Or forgetting?” He asked, crushing the empty can and tossing it in the general direction of the trash can.

I shrugged. “Who said we had to be celebrating or forgetting anything? Can’t a guy just want to have a beer?”

“I suppose,” he said, eying me carefully. I knew he didn’t buy it. I sounded far too defensive, because, well, I was.

“It’s just been a long day, that’s all,” I offered, hoping that was a better excuse than complete denial of any problem.

“That it has,” he replied, his face softening some as he took a few steps closer to me and threw his arms around my neck. “I don’t know how you can manage those walks and a full concert every day. What do you say we just go straight to bed?”

“Mmm, how about one more beer first?” I asked, not even caring that my voice was verging on whining. I hated that I actually dreaded the thought of curling up in bed with Shay like I had done nothing at all wrong that day and still deserved to lay next to him, but I did.

He sighed. “I suppose, if you want… a little buzz might put you to sleep sooner. We’ve got a bit of a drive tonight, don’t we?”

“Don’t remind me. Please,” I replied, laying my head on his shoulder. My voice a little muffled, I added, “I just need a fucking day off.”

That was a lie, though. A day off meant a day to spend entirely with Seamus. While that would at least get me away from Zac, it didn’t really seem to matter. He would still be right at the front of my mind no matter what. A full day with Seamus just meant a full day spent feeling like shit for cheating on him.

Just then, the bus door clicked open and the sound of voices carried to where we stood. I turned my head and saw that, not surprisingly, one of those voices belonged to Zac. I turned back to Seamus before Zac could look my way.

“On second thought,” I said, “how about we go to bed now?”

He must have read some innuendo into my words, because his eyes sparkled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway toward his bunk. As long as he didn’t guess my real reason for wanting to put plenty of distance between Zac and myself, I didn’t really care what Shay thought I was implying. Anything but the truth was fine by me.

He pulled the curtain between the two sections of the bus, but it was hardly necessary. No one on this tour was especially shy about changing in front of each other since, except for Bex, we were all men. And I was pretty sure that after six years of touring with us, Bex had seen enough disgusting and potentially scarring sights that nothing really bothered her at all. Still, I didn’t mind having a curtain between me and everyone else when Seamus decided to start stripping my clothes off right in the middle of the hallway.

My mind was elsewhere, though, and it didn’t take Shay long to notice. He stopped kissing my neck and pulled back, one hand still resting on my hip. Frowning, he asked, “You really are tired, aren’t you?”

“Yeah… I guess I am,” I replied absolutely unconvincingly. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow?”

“We don’t have to have sex every night, you know. You needn’t apologize for an off night or two.”

He was perfect. That’s all there was to it. My boyfriend was absolutely perfect and forgiving and I was a horrible human being. How couldn’t he see that? It was only a matter of time before he realized that he deserved so, so much better than me. When he did, I wouldn’t blame him at all for leaving me. He would be a fool not to.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

I shook my head. “No… just tired. Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

“Alright,” he replied, but I could see that he wasn’t done with the conversation. For the moment, though, he dropped the subject and stripped out of his own clothes before peeling back the bunk’s curtain for me. Like I said – he was perfect.

He didn’t speak another word until we were both settled into the bunk, our bodies curled around each other like they were made to fit together that way. I hoped that he would forget about my weirdness entirely and just go to sleep, but of course I couldn’t be that lucky.

“So, what’s going on in your mind tonight, Tay?”

“What do you mean?” Feigning innocence wouldn’t work, I knew, but it might at least buy me some time.

“I mean, you just seem a little… off. For someone who seems so cocky, you can really be a nervous wreck, you know.”

“Is that right?” I asked, knowing that it was. The confidence was an act that I had perfected so long ago that sometimes even I forgot that it was just that – an act. But around Seamus, all my defenses fell away and I turned back into a stupid, clumsy, utterly hopeless teenager.

“It’s cute, though,” he replied. “One of your more endearing qualities. Of which there are many.”

“Sure there are,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“That,” he replied, poking me between the eyes to punctuate his statement, “is _not_ one of them.”

I chuckled, and so did Seamus. It only lasted a moment, though, and then he was staring at me again, waiting for me to explain myself.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m just weird. I haven’t really… let myself _feel_ anything for a long time, you know? I just bottled everything up and avoided any kind of situations or relationships or whatever that would really let any of those emotions out. So now they’re all kind of coming out at once.”

It was the truth. It was probably the truest thing I had said to him in several days, even if it wasn’t the entire truth. That was something he could never, ever know. He might be understanding and forgiving, but I was certain that even he had a limit.

“I know, baby,” he replied, leaning in and kissing the tip of my nose. “But you’re not doing half as bad as you seem to think you are. It’ll take time, you know? To get comfortable with everything. Luckily for you, I am a _very_ patient man.”

With another quick peck on the lips, he rolled over onto his side and settled into my arms. It was official. My boyfriend was a fucking saint. And me? I was laying there wondering what it would feel like to have Zac curled up in my arms like that. He wasn’t as thin as Seamus or as tall, but I had a feeling he would feel just as wonderful.

Yeah. I was definitely going to hell.


	21. Failure

Somehow, I slept soundly that night despite feeling like roughly the worst person in the world. I knew I wasn’t really _that_ bad; at least, I was pretty sure that cheating on your boyfriend with your brother wasn’t as bad as being a serial killer or something. But it was still pretty bad.

Early in the morning, the bus started rolling on to Memphis, and gradually people began to wake up. None of us were morning people – any musician who says they are is lying – but it’s hard to ignore the sound and feeling of a giant tour bus roaring to life, no matter how deeply you were sleeping. The roar of the bus and the hum of voices around the bunk woke me up pretty quickly, and despite the early hour, I knew I wouldn’t be going back to sleep. I had been lucky to get those few blissful hours.

Carefully and slowly, I peeled myself away from Seamus and padded to the front of the bus. Machine and Bex were already up, going over some papers that I assumed contained our plans for the day. Neither one paid much attention to me as I headed straight for the coffee maker and picked out my flavor the day. Everyone else thought it was a little extravagant to bring my Keurig on tour, but I didn’t care. In just a few minutes, I would have a cup of caramel coffee in my hand and anyone who didn’t understand how awesome that was really didn’t matter to me at all.

With my cup of coffee in hand, I settled into the bus’s small couch and grabbed the book I had apparently left laying there at some point. I didn’t get a chance to read _that_ much on tour, but I always brought a book or two just in case I needed something to occupy myself with during a long drive. This one was just some self-help thing that I had little faith would actually help me, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. I flipped through the pages for a few minutes, trying to remember where I had left off, and finally just gave up and started on a random page.

My mind wasn’t really on the book anyway. All I could think about how I had betrayed Seamus. It had only taken a few days for me to prove, without a doubt, that I just wasn’t worthy of him. I had never really felt like I was a bad person before. Sure, I knew I did bad things and probably hurt a few people, but everyone knew what I was. They knew I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I was upfront about all of that, if not the reasons why.

But with Seamus, I had tried. I had _wanted_ to try. And I had still failed.

“Taylor? Are you listening?” Bex said, suddenly shaking me out of my trance.

I blinked and glanced up at her, then back down at my book. It occurred to me that I had no idea what I had just read, and that I had possibly spent five or ten minutes staring at the same sentence over and over again. And somehow, half of my coffee was gone.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I asked, giving her an apologetic smile. She knew better than to expect me to pay attention that early, but still she tried.

“The walk today,” she said. “It’s supposed to be over 100 degrees. Are we sure it’s safe to go ahead with it?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I know everyone’s not always comfortable walking when it’s really hot out, but that’s not really the point.”

“We’re going to need to make a decision soon,” she replied. “People will be lining up by the time we get there. They’re going to be pissed if they showed up for nothing. I mean, nothing aside from the concert.”

“Right,” I said. “I’ll make a decision.”

“Soon, please?”

“Soon. I promise.”

As I glanced back down at my book, I realized that wasn’t the only thing I had to make a decision about. Every walk mattered, but whether or not to cancel that particular day’s walk really wasn’t at for forefront of my mind. All I could think about right then was my situation with Seamus and Zac. What was I going to do about _that_?

I had a big decision to make. Was I going to go on pretending nothing had happened and try to be better to Seamus? Or was I going to break things off with him?

Well, the second of those hardly seemed like an option at all.

There was a third choice, though. I could talk to Zac and tell him what we had done was a mistake that needed not to be repeated. It was the truth; at least, the part about not needing to repeat it. It hadn’t really _felt_ like a mistake at the time, despite how much I had beaten myself up since.

Yeah, that was definitely what I needed to do. I had to talk to Zac.

That decision made it a tiny bit easier to settle back into the couch and finally read past the same sentence. Another fresh cup of coffee made me feel even better and more awake, and soon I hardly even minded being awake so early at all.

At some point, Seamus woke up and wandered to the front of the bus, his face lighting up as soon as he saw me. He didn’t ask where I had been, though. Of course he didn’t. He was the perfect boyfriend, after all – never jealous or overly clingy. At least, not clingy in a bad way. After greeting Bex and Machine, he flopped down on the couch, sprawling his body across my lap and giving me a grin.

“Mind if I take a nap here?”

I grinned. “Didn’t you just wake up?”

“Sure did,” he replied. “But you’re _far_ more comfortable than the bunk.”

“Then by all means, sleep away,” I replied, still grinning.

I didn’t care how silly we looked. Those small little moments of happiness with him were the best. It only took seconds for my mind to fly back to Zac and ruin my good mood, but with Seamus, a book and a fresh cup of coffee, I really had nothing to be upset about. If I could just keep my mind off my brother, everything would be perfect.

For the rest of that morning, things _were_ perfect. Zac didn’t seem to be purposely avoiding me, but we didn’t talk more than we absolutely had to, either. He basically stayed barricaded in the back of the bus, surrounded by the other gamers, and I stayed at the front with Seamus. Things were easier that way, but of course things couldn’t just _stay_ that way.

After splitting up to eat lunch, since we could never all agree on one restaurant, we met back up at the venue to discuss our plan for the walk. It was every bit as hot as Bex had said it would be, and even though we had been in air conditioned buses or buildings all day, we were still miserable. I could only imagine how the fans waiting outside for hours felt. I _hated_ canceling a walk, but I couldn’t really see a way around it.

Ultimately, the decision was up to just the three of us, but I didn’t mind at all that Bex had seen fit to sit in on our band meeting. Even when we weren’t just this side of heatstroke, our discussions had a way of quickly turning into arguments, and Bex had this amazing ability to defuse the situation. I think it probably stemmed from the fact that we were all scared shitless of her, even when she was in a good mood. She took shit from no one, not even her employers. It was something I definitely admired about her, and I was not above using her as a human shield during any potential fight with Zac.

“You seriously want to cancel the walk?” Isaac asked, his eyes wide.

I crossed my arms defiantly. “Yeah, I do. I don’t know about you guys, but my feet are blistered and burnt after the last few days. Fans are getting hurt, too, and I’m not just talking about a little blister that isn’t worth whining about. It’s not worth it.”

“It’s not _worth_ it?” He echoed.

“You know what I mean,” I replied. “We can still donate some money anyway so it’ll be like we did the walk. I just don’t think we need to genuinely risk anyone’s health. Not when it’s this hot out. We can schedule the next few walks later or something, so it’ll be a little cooler.”

“Way to stick to your guns,” Ike mumbled, then turned to Zac, who was glued to his phone and barely seemed to even be aware that other people were in the room. “What do you think?”

“I think Tay’s right,” he replied, not even glancing up.

Well, that was a shocker. Since when had Zac ever been agreeable? If Ike and I were arguing, Zac was far more likely to play mediator – or tell us we were both being assholes – than actually take sides. And of all the possible sides for him to take, he was taking _mine_? I certainly wasn’t going to argue about it, though. In fact, I was having a hard time not being smug about it. I could already feel a grin stretching across my face as I stared at Isaac and waited for his next remark.

Isaac glanced back and forth between then two of us, then at Bex, as though she might back him up. When he could see that he had no support, he threw his hands up in the air and stood up. “Alright, whatever. I’ll go send out a tweet that we’re calling it off today.”

“I’m sure the fans will be really disappointed…” Zac mumbled. I wasn’t even sure that anyone but me heard him, and judging by the little smirk on his face, he didn’t seem to care. He was just pleased with himself.

Why was he in such a nice, agreeable mood anyway? I hated knowing that as soon as I could get him alone, I was probably going to ruin that mood.

Once the decision was officially made, Isaac and Bex scattered off to do… whatever they were going to do… and left me alone with Zac. I hadn’t planned it that way, but it worked out pretty well for me. I cleared my throat and took a seat next to him, trying to subtly get his attention away from whatever he was doing on his phone.

“Hey, Zac?”

“Yeah?” He asked, still not even looking at me.

“Umm… about yesterday afternoon.”

A tiny raise of his eyebrow, but otherwise, no sign that he even knew what I was talking about.

“It’s just… well, I’m not saying it was a _mistake_ or I didn’t enjoy it or anything, but…”

“Yeah,” he replied, cutting me off. “It probably _was_ a mistake.”

“Well, maybe… it’s just, I really want to make this thing with Shay work, you know?”

He finally glanced up and gave me a tiny smile. It wasn’t totally convincing, but usually Zac didn’t even bother trying to be something he wasn’t truly feeling. Maybe he did mean it. “It’s fine, Tay. I get it. You’ve got a boyfriend and I’m… well. Your brother.”

“Something like that, yeah…” I mumbled. This was far easier than I thought it would be. Was it just a trick?

“It’s alright, really,” Zac said, giving me another smile, then turning back to his phone.

Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. For the time being, I was willing to accept Zac’s assurance that it was. All I knew for sure was that, with this Zac thing hopefully off my back, I had a tiny chance not to be a total failure as a boyfriend. I just hoped I didn’t find some other way to fuck it up. Knowing me, though, I would.


	22. Roomies

I was blessed with a day and a half of normalcy, or at least, whatever passes for normalcy for a touring band. Zac didn’t totally seem like himself, but I didn’t even know who that was anymore, so I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it. As long as he didn’t seem to be causing any problems for me and Seamus, and wasn’t occupying _too_ big of a place in my thoughts, I really didn’t care.

That sounds horrible. Of course I cared about him, but I didn’t need to dwell on thinking about his problems. If I did, I knew it would only lead to problems for me. So I just had to trust Zac to deal with his own issues and stay out of mine.

After our concert in St. Louis, we drove on to Kansas City and got a hotel room for the night. Seamus and I had talked about whether or not we should bother with the pretense of getting separate rooms; it was kind of pointless to pay the extra money when everyone knew we were just sharing one room or the other anyway. We hadn’t figured out exactly how to raise the issue with Machine or Bex, but it turned out that we didn’t have to raise it at all.

We made our way into the hotel together, just a little bit behind the rest of the group, but not walking too close to each other. I didn’t know whether he was conscious of my choice to avoid being very affectionate with him in public, but I hoped that if he was, he understood. It wasn’t that I didn’t want people to know I was with him; it was just that I didn’t feel ready to deal with the fallout, whether it came from fans or just more stupid homophobes. Just because I wasn’t holding his hand at all times didn’t mean I didn’t _want_ to. He was a smart guy, though. I was sure he understood.

With our luggage in tow, we stood around while Machine talked to the girl at the hotel’s front desk. It was late, so no one in the group was speaking much at all. It was just as well; there were so many of us crammed into the small hotel lobby that any conversation at all would have quickly involved everyone.

After a few minutes, Machine made his way back to the group and squeezed in between Isaac and Will. His hands were piled down with key cards, which he began handing out with the sort of precision that only an experienced tour manager could ever possess. If that sort of task were left up to me, I’d end up giving people the wrong room numbers or the wrong roommates or _something_. It wouldn’t be pretty.

“Tay, Seamus, here’s your keys. You’re in room 509.”

If I had thought the lobby was quiet before, that was nothing compared to the complete – and completely _awkward_ – silence that descended over it as Seamus and I stared at the two matching key cards Machine was holding out to us.

“Thanks,” Seamus finally managed to say. His composure had slipped for a second, but it was soon back, as though nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened.

“Umm, yeah, thanks,” I added, snatching up my card and stuffing it in my pocket.

Machine glanced at us for a split second longer, like he wanted to say something else or apologize or something, but he didn’t. He just glanced back down at the cards in his hand, then held the next one out to its recipient.

“And here’s your card, Zac. Room 507.”

Right next door to me and Seamus. Awesome. I could see the little snarl on his face as he took the key card and tucked it into his pocket without a word. No one else seemed to notice, but I was certain it was there. Before I could study his look further and try to figure out what it truly meant, he had turned on his heel and begun gathering up his bags. He packed light, so it wasn’t long before there was nothing left of Zac but an empty spot and the sound of him beating a hasty retreat to the elevator.

Well, _that_ was awkward.

Things had seemed to be going so well, but I should have known that it couldn’t last. I should have known that Zac was just putting on a brave face and didn’t really mean it when he said things were okay. I wasn’t upset with him for that. How could I be? He was entitled to feel whatever he felt; unlike myself, most people actually did _feel_ their emotions, rather than bottling them up inside and pretending they didn’t exist.

What I could be upset with Zac for was the way he seemed to insist upon making a scene.

If everyone wasn’t already gaping awkwardly at Seamus and I, they definitely were now that Zac had stormed off. I don’t think anyone truly understood what had happened. How could they? No one would dare imagine that my brother was jealous of my boyfriend, right? But they had to feel the strange tension swirling around us.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Machine to finish handing out the key cards. Bex reminded us that we had the next day off and everyone let out a few subdued cheers. Normally, the cheers would have been much louder, but it was obvious that everyone was still on edge from whatever they thought they had just witnessed.

Sometimes, I really just wanted to punch Zac for being such an overdramatic bastard. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that he would punch back, harder.

Finally, after saying our awkward, slightly stilted goodnights to everyone, we all began to gather up our luggage and part ways. Seamus didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was hauling a few of my bags; even for an overnight stay in a hotel, I seemed to bring everything I owned. It was just one of my faults, but Shay seemed to find it endearing. He gave me a grin as he tossed the messenger bag over his shoulder and headed toward the elevator.

While we waited for the elevator, his grin widened. “So, what’s the plan for our day off, roomie?”

“Roomie?” I repeated, smirking a little.

“You heard me,” he replied, nudging me onto the elevator. “Isn’t that what we are?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I couldn’t quite find it in myself to return his enthusiasm. Under any other circumstances, I would have enjoyed the joke, but the way it had upset Zac ruined my mood completely.

He nudged me again. “Hey, I know it’s kind of… weird. Announcing we’re together to everyone like that. It would have been nice to have the choice. But it’s not like they didn’t already know, right?”

“Yeah… you’re right…” I replied, sounding totally unconvincing.

The elevator doors opened before he could say anything else. We juggled our luggage down the hallway toward our room. Since Shay had the lighter load, he stepped ahead of me and slid his key into the door. I couldn’t do anything but stare dumbly at the room next door – Zac’s room. I wondered if he was inside, sulking. Of course he was. I just wished there was something I could _do_ about it.

“Tay? You coming?” Seamus asked, holding the door open for me.

“Hmm?” I said, shaking my head a little to clear it. “Yeah, sorry. Kinda tired, I guess.”

It was amazing how the lies just seemed to keep falling out of my mouth when I talked to him. It was even more amazing that he still believed them. How much longer could I manage that feat? Surely at some point Shay would see through my practically transparent excuses and lies.

So far, though, he hadn’t. I followed him into the hotel room, tossing my bags down haphazardly next to the dresser. Seamus did the same, taking a little more care with the bag that contained my laptop. I knew I probably wouldn’t have much use for it in the less than two days we’d be in Kansas City, but if there was a chance of sitting down with some actual wifi, I wasn’t going to let it pass me by. If I’d had a hotel room to myself, that would have been the first thing I did after walking in the room; as it was, I expected I would soon be cuddling with my boyfriend instead.

Sure enough, it took us only a few minutes to fall into a routine. It seemed like we had been together far longer than a week when we were together like this, just doing normal couple things like brushing our teeth in front of the far too small hotel sink. Those little moments were perfect – even when Shay felt the need to splash me with water. In those moments, I didn’t have to think about anything else but how wonderful it felt to be with him.

Once our teeth were brushed and my contacts out, we settled into bed together. The room was hot, but I still couldn’t resist curling up around him and pulling the covers up high around us like I was trying to build a cocoon that might keep all my worries out. It almost worked.

“So,” Seamus said, “you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question was that?”

“What we’re going to do tomorrow,” he replied, still smiling.

I sighed happily. “Doesn’t matter to me. I only have two priorities here.”

“And what might those be?”

“Spending time with you,” I replied, then grinned. “And getting some _fantastic_ barbecue. I know the perfect place. Well, I think I do. I may get us lost.”

“I suppose we can still have fun, even if we get lost,” he said, giving me a grin of his own.

I chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

He nuzzled my neck and sighed happily. “It’s a date, then. Although I’d be perfectly happy just spending the entire day in this bed.”

“It is a comfy bed…” I replied.

“That it is,” he said, chuckling. “The company isn’t bad, either.”

I laughed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Definitely not bad. Not bad at all.”

“Goodnight, roomie,” Seamus said, his lips brushing against my neck.

Yeah, a whole day in bed with my “roomie” didn’t sound like a bad plan at all.


	23. Paparazzi

True to our word, Seamus and I stayed in bed as late as we could possibly manage the next day. It wasn’t difficult, really. It was already early in the morning when we arrived and we were both exhausted from the show that night. And he might be even _less_ of a morning person than I am, if that’s even physically possible.

When we did finally wake up, we still lay in bed for an hour or so, just kissing. Neither of us really had the energy to do much more than that. It wasn’t early by any means, and eventually we both conceded that we should at least get out of bed in time to eat lunch at a reasonable, lunch-like hour. Shay suggested that we shower together to save time, but I think we both knew that really wouldn’t be much of a timesaver at all.

Instead, I showered first, got myself dressed and plopped down with my laptop to enjoy a little free wifi while Seamus made himself presentable – a feat that really didn’t take long at all, but I knew he still felt gross from the concert and bus ride.

I knew I wouldn’t have much time, so I hurriedly scrolled through my email inbox and private messages. Nothing stuck out as particularly important, so I decided to come back to those later, perhaps once we had returned from our day on the town and were both too exhausted to do anything more than sit around.

Once that was done, I opened up the folder of pictures I had taken over the last few weeks and tried to pick a few to highlight on the website. I had taken up photography a few months prior, and I knew I wasn’t _that_ great, but it was a lot of fun. Plus, the fans seemed to enjoy seeing the more candid shots from the tour. If they enjoyed it, then it was worth a little time to edit and post the pics I knew I would be taking anyway.

It only took a few minutes to choose my favorites. Most were scenery and skylines I thought looked nice. I threw in a few candid rehearsal shots and some quirky little snaps of the venues we had played. The last picture I came across took my breath away. I had forgotten about taking it a day or two before. It was Seamus, staring out the bus window at god knows what. Nothing particularly exciting about the composition, but the lighting and the look of pure joy on his face made it pretty breath-taking; at least, if you asked me.

I knew, without a doubt, that I had to show off that picture. Even if I didn’t caption it “my gorgeous boyfriend,” I was pretty sure people would get the hint. After all, they already made weird little comments about how many pictures I took of Zac. If they only knew…

I shook my head, trying to stop my brain from going down that particular path, and I nearly succeeded. I double-clicked on the picture of Seamus, making it the last one in the slideshow, and then clicked on the button that would send the post straight to the top of our blog.

“Looking at porn?” Seamus asked, grinning.

I hadn’t even realized that the shower had shut off, but there he was in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel.

“Mmm, I am now,” I replied, letting my eyes roam up and down his body.

Shay just rolled his eyes at me. He was beginning to learn, I thought, that sometimes it was just easiest to ignore me when I was ridiculous. Which was basically all the time. It was part of my charm, really.

Despite my staring, he somehow managed to get dressed quickly. With one last look at my email, I shut my laptop off and gathered up my things. I was pretty sure I knew where we were going that day, but I pulled up directions on my phone while we waited for the elevator just in case. Getting lost was another of my talents, but I didn’t really think it could be _that_ hard to find a good barbecue place in Kansas City.

While the elevator ticked off the floors, I stared down at my phone, trying to memorize the directions and street names that I hoped would lead us to the little hole in the wall place I remembered having lunch at the last time we came through here. I had this irrational urge to impress Seamus, even if the quality of the food was totally beyond my control. I just needed to prove myself in whatever ways that I could.

“Are we incognito today?” He asked, and I blinked, unsure what he meant. He poke the side of my glasses. “Why haven’t I seen these before?”

“Oh, I usually wear the contacts. I get the ones you can supposedly leave in for weeks, but it can’t possibly be healthy to wear them as long as I do. My eyes were hurting, so… glasses it is, today.”

He eyed me critically for a moment, then nodded and grinned. “I like them. They make you look nerdy.”

“Thanks?” I replied, earning myself a little chuckle from him just as the elevator doors slid open.

I didn’t really want to know if that was meant as a compliment or not, so I didn’t even ask. He hadn’t refused to be seen in public with while wearing the glasses, as Zac had threatened a few times, so I supposed that was something. In fact, Seamus seemed to be all smiles that day, and I found that his happiness was pretty infectious.

Thankfully, the directions my phone gave were accurate, and my own fucked up sense of direction didn’t steer us wrong, either. It was only a short walk to the restaurant, which looked utterly unassuming from the outside, but which I knew was positively the best. Shay looked dubious, but he followed me inside anyway.

We talked about so many things over our pork barbecue sandwiches that I honestly couldn’t even begin to list them all. It seemed to occur to both of us simultaneously that, after two weeks on tour together and a week of dating, we really didn’t know each other at all. Sure, he knew a few of my deep dark secrets, but there were huge gaps in our basic knowledge about each other.

By the time I was full of barbecue, I had learned, among other things, that his middle name was Eoin and his favorite color was yellow.

When we walked back out onto the street, I had to resist the urge to grab his hand. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt the need to be so publicly affectionate, but I did. He didn’t seem to notice the internal struggle I was facing, though. Instead, he practically took off at a sprint down the street, evidently interested in some shop he had spotted in the distance.

These were the perfect days. We had had a few others like it, just exploring some city together. I knew he hadn’t toured much before, or with such a nice schedule as our tour had, so this was truly an adventure for him. I really enjoyed – felt privileged, even – to be by his side as he took it all in.

I started getting a nervous tingle on the back of my neck in the third store, but I tried to brush it off and enjoy Shay’s impromptu hat fashion show. He looked so damn good in all of them that I was totally useless at helping him decide which one to buy. I was halfway tempted to just put them all on my credit card, but I didn’t think we really had room for ten random hats on the bus. Someone was bound to get pissed off when we arrived with all of them.

The nervous tingle only increased when he started putting hats on _me_ , and dragging me around to admire his handiwork in a mirror. I had to admit, his choice _did_ look good. It was a newsboy cap, the sort that Isaac insisted made me look like someone’s grandfather, but I couldn’t help liking it.

“Was that a camera?” Seamus asked, craning his neck to look around.

I frowned. “What, that wasn’t you taking a picture of your new model?”

“No,” he replied, chuckling, then nodded his head toward a rack of jewelry on the opposite wall. “I think we have paparazzi.”

I followed his nod and wasn’t particularly surprised to see a couple of giggling girls with cell phones and cameras in their hands. The dead giveaway was the fact that one of them was wearing a shirt from our last tour.

“Not paparazzi,” I said, giving Shay a wry grin. “Fans. And let me guess, they’re already walking this way.”

He glanced over my shoulder. “Correct.”

“Then put on a nice hat and smile pretty,” I replied, bracing myself for the fans’ arrival.

If I sounded bitter at all, it was because I didn’t want anything or anyone to interrupt what was really a perfect little date. It didn’t matter that it was fans; I really do appreciate them, but it can get a bit tiring to always have to turn my persona on and pose for the perfect picture. The fact that they had already been snapping pics of my _date_ didn’t really make me feel any better.

But I still spun around and smiled as soon as Seamus gave me a nod and I heard one of the girls clear her throat.

“Umm, hi, Taylor? Can we get a pic?”

“Sure,” I replied, then cast a quick glance at Seamus.

His smile looked totally natural, even though I had a feeling this was first time he’d had this sort of encounter. With a quick look at me, then at the girl who had asked, he said, “I can take the pic, if you’d like.”

“Oh, actually I’d like a pic with you, too,” the second girl spoke up. “I was at the show in St. Louis. You were really good.”

“Well, thank you,” he replied, his smile only growing.

I was seriously beginning to think that my boyfriend was perfect. There was just no other explanation.

After shuffling around cameras and phones and taking several versions of nearly the same picture, the three girls seemed satisfied. With a promise to put on a good show for them later, we finally bid them goodbye. Their giggles seemed to echo around the store even after they finally walked away and I was able to let out a long breath.

“Fans, hmm?” Seamus said, chuckling. He was already trying on another hat, and balancing a second on his fingertip.

Yeah. Definitely perfect.


	24. Lips

Something was building. I wondered sometimes if I was just being paranoid, but I could feel it. I could feel this tension boiling just beneath the surface, even when everything seemed to be going just fine. Everything with Seamus seemed perfect and even Zac seemed okay. He seemed happy enough and left us entirely alone for the next day.

It should have been fine. I should have been able to relax. Yet, somehow, I couldn’t.

What could go wrong, though? That was the question I kept asking myself. I had Seamus, and things with him were good. I had ended it with Zac, and even though I wasn’t sure that he was entirely okay with that, he seemed to understand it and he was keeping his distance. No one was going to find out what had happened between the two of us. That nightmare had ended. So, I asked myself again, what could possibly go wrong?

We made it all the way to Omaha without any of my paranoid fears coming true, though. I tried to remind myself that they were just that – fears. Fears that weren’t grounded in reality at all. For once in my life, I was choosing to do something that was good for me, to be with someone who really cared about me and who I really cared about, and I had ended things with Zac before they could mess that up. There was no reason to give in to all of those fears and run away like I had in the past.

Despite my paranoia, I had a good feeling about the concert that night. It’s strange how, even before we’re even onstage, the three of us can just sense when it’s going to be a good show. The audience that night was giving off particularly good vibes that were radiating all the way backstage, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Yet another reason to dismiss my fears as totally unfounded.

Even Zac seemed to be in a good mood, and that put a smile on my face. Things between he and I really needed to go back to normal, if that was even possible. I had to laugh at myself for even thinking of it that way. What kind of normalcy could there be after you’d had sex with your brother? But right then, as we lounged around before our set, trying not to strain our voices or otherwise do something stupid and clumsy that would ruin the show, he looked happy and for that I was glad.

After lounging around for a while myself, I decided to go watch Shay’s set. Since he was the only opener, he got to play a pretty long set and I found myself enthralled with it every night. It didn’t even matter that it was usually the same songs each night. I could listen to his voice forever, the way his slight accent came out when he sang certain words and the way he rocked his hips a little when he got really into the music.

He was already a few songs into it by the time I made my way to the side of the stage. I hoped he hadn’t noticed my absence. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch him; I was just enjoying the fact that our dressing room seemed, for once, free of the sort of awkward tension that had followed me and Zac around for days.

I was a fool for thinking that tension was gone for good.

Seamus was just launching into his last song when I felt a presence near me. I didn’t even need to turn my head to see who it was. I just knew, without a doubt, that it was Zac. We’d always had that sort of freakishly strange connection. I guess it was a sibling thing, but I’d never really felt that connected to the rest of them. It was just Zac who I could sense as soon as he walked into a room, whose emotions I was so tuned into even when, as it seemed, I didn’t understand them at all.

“He sounds really good tonight,” Zac said to my complete and utter surprise.

“Yeah,” I replied. “But he sounds good every night.”

Zac chuckled. “Relax, I wasn’t trying to insult your boyfriend, okay? That was actually a compliment.”

I turned around and eyed Zac. I really didn’t know what he was trying to say, and I refused to believe that he didn’t have some kind of ulterior motive. Even if he had been acting okay for a day or two, I didn’t totally trust him. His overdramatic ways could return at any moment.

“Seriously, Tay,” Zac said holding his hands up as if to surrender. “He sounds good, even I can admit that. So just chill, alright?”

I didn’t think I was getting all that upset. Zac just seemed way too defensive, and it didn’t make sense to me at all. I didn’t have much time to think about it, though. The sudden absence of music, replaced by scattered cheers, alerted me to the fact that Shay’s set had ended. Sure enough, when I spun around, I saw him heading straight toward me.

As soon as he was within reach, my arms were out. He swung his guitar around behind him and embraced me. I was pretty sure Zac made some sort of sound behind me that might have been a cough or a fake attempt at gagging. I wasn’t really sure, and I chose to ignore it. I was just being paranoid, I was sure. Zac wasn’t that petty and childish, was he?

“Great set, babe,” I said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Shay’s cheek.

Maybe I should have been a little more cautious after that incident in Louisville, but I really didn’t care. The only person around to witness this particular show of affection was Zac. While he might not have enjoyed it, his anger was in a different arena entirely from those assholes at that other venue. And anyway, it was worth anything at all to see Seamus smile at me.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I’m sure you guys will be great as well. Let me just ditch this guitar and get changed, yeah? Then I’ll be back.”

“Yeah, alright.”

He leaned in then and kissed me on the lips. It was quick and fairly chaste, but I didn’t mind. Zac gave another little cough-snort-thing from behind me, and I honestly had forgotten that he was even there. That was just the effect that Shay and his lips had on me, I guess.

“Well, that was sweet,” Zac said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

He walked off then, close behind Seamus. For a moment, I wondered if he was going to do something stupid. I didn’t think Zac was dumb enough to try to beat him up or anything. How could he possibly explain something like that? There was no reasonable explanation for it besides the awful truth, and I thought that Zac could see as well as I could that our secret needed to _stay_ a secret.

Still, I wanted to chase after them. I couldn’t, though. I found myself rooted on the spot, almost in disbelief. The worst part was that I could definitely smell alcohol lingering in the air around me, and for once, surprisingly, I wasn’t the source of it. I wasn’t sure who was, though – Seamus or Zac.

I didn’t have a chance to find out, either. All too soon, our set was beginning. The band descended upon me, everyone talking on top of each other as they made the final preparations for the show. In those moments, there was no time to think about anything but the show. I had to admit, that was my favorite thing about touring – those times when I could empty my mind of everything but music.

And that’s exactly what I did for the next two hours.

That temporary break for my mind left me feeling a lot better. I hadn’t really been in a bad mood anyway, except for that strange little encounter with Zac. Even if I had dwelt on it, I knew I wouldn’t have come to any sort of conclusions, so it was just as well that I put it out of my mind for the entirety of the show. The show went so well that by the time it was over, I didn’t even care what Zac’s problem was. He seemed to be in a pretty good mood, too. He even gave me a smile before we took our bow. It wasn’t much, but I liked it.

In fact, everyone seemed to be in a good mood after the show. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who felt it. It had just been a good night. Shay was right there to greet me as soon as I got offstage, his huge grin saying it all. We walked arm in arm through the backstage area, only parting to gather up all of our belongings that seemed to multiply and scatter themselves around the green room while we weren’t watching.

I hated to part ways with him at all, if even for a moment. I still wasn’t totally comfortable with any big public displays of affection, though, so we kept a safe distance from each other as we walked back to the bus. It was no surprise at all that fans were already gathering there in the hopes of getting an autograph from at least one of us. The bus strategically blocked us from their view, but I could hear them chattering and knew the crowd was already pretty big.

Right then, I really didn’t want to deal with the fans at all. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to them or anything; it was just that spending time with Seamus sounded a _lot_ more fun. The way he flopped down onto the bus couch just looked like an invitation to me, even if Zac was sitting right beside him, sipping a beer.

Well, at least I had found the source of that alcoholic smell. I could only hope that Zac hadn’t actually been drunk during the concert, but I wasn’t in any position to judge him if he had been.

“You guys going out there tonight?” Isaac asked, emerging from the back of the bus, where he had apparently already changed out of his suit and into a t-shirt and jeans. He glanced at Zac. “I’m going to guess that’s a ‘no’ for you.”

Zac only offered him a raised eyebrow as a reply. Perhaps I had been wrong about that good mood I thought Zac was in. Then again, he never really was a talkative drunk, and he seemed to be well on his way to drunk right then.

“I’ll go,” I said, sounding more like I was going to my death than to mingle with the fans. I gave Shay a little pout. “I’ll be back soon, alright?”

“Yeah, take your time,” he replied, smiling. “I’ll still be here when you get back.”

It seemed like a loaded statement, although I didn’t know why I needed to be reassured. Whatever it meant, it made me smile. I gave him a quick kiss, then shed the rest of my bags and grabbed a marker from our stash by the door, trying to ready myself to face the masses. The last thing I saw before stepping off the bus was Seamus helping himself to a beer and rejoining Zac on the couch.

Just as I suspected, there was a huge crowd waiting for us. I signed my name so many times it felt like my hand might fall off and made small talk with the same fans I was certain I had seen the day before _and_ the day before that. All part of the job description, though. The crowd seemed to thin out around Isaac first, and I was left still signing tickets and posters and CDs when he came over and told me he was going back onto the bus.

A few long minutes later, the last few stragglers bid me goodbye and I made my way back to the bus. I couldn’t wait to see Seamus again, even though I knew it really hadn’t been that long since we had parted. Even just a few seconds away from him were kind of agonizing, though. I had to admit, I was falling _hard_. All I could think about as I climbed up onto the bus was the way his lips would feel on mine when I finally saw him again.

He wasn’t at the front of the bus, though. I didn’t hear voices from the back, but I figured that was the next logical place to look. Maybe he had joined Zac for some drunken video gaming. He wasn’t super into the games, but he humored Zac sometimes. Figuring they must have been back there, I made my way down the bus’s hallway and pulled the door back.

I wasn’t at all prepared for the scene in front of me.

The lips I had missed, the lips I had thought about as I signed endless autographs… were locked with my brother’s.


	25. Guilty

Everything seemed to stop in that moment. We were all frozen on the spot, and I can’t speak for Zac and Seamus, but I’m not certain that I remembered to breathe for a good ten seconds. How could that even be happening? It was so ridiculous that I almost couldn’t believe my eyes, but no matter how longer I stared, the picture in front of me didn’t change.

Except for the look on Zac’s face.

Even though Seamus had pushed him away, a tiny little smirk formed on Zac’s face. The fucking bastard. He looked so smug. And Seamus? He just looked terrified. In an instant, I realized what had happened, but it didn’t really _change_ anything.

And how could I explain it to Seamus?

I couldn’t; that was how. With that knowledge, I stormed out of the room, trying to look appropriately upset. It was easy enough; I was upset, after all. It just so happened that I was upset with Zac rather than with Seamus. Of course, Seamus didn’t know that yet, and if I could avoid it, he wouldn’t ever know.

I didn’t really know where I was going when I stormed out of the back of the bus. I just knew that I needed to get away from Zac before I punched him in the face. It would have been perfectly justified, but a little hard to explain. He still had a hint of a black eye from the Louisville show, anyway. As much as I wanted to make that a matching set, I wasn’t quite that cruel. Yet. I had a feeling he was going to drive me to it, though.

There were probably still a few fans milling about, so I steered clear of that area and headed back into the venue. Our crew was taking their sweet time loading out, so I wasn’t totally alone, but they were busy enough not to do more than mumble hello when I passed by. Good. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I just needed to get away and cause a scene for a while.

I had known, of course, that Seamus would follow me. It didn’t surprise me at all to hear his footsteps down the hallway, chasing after me. I wasn’t going to let him win that easily, though. I ducked into the green room, but didn’t lock the door behind me. He’d get there soon enough and then… well, I didn’t really have a plan for what I was going to say to him. I supposed I would have to wait and see how he chose to explain the scene I’d witnessed.

“Taylor?” He asked, rapping his hand against the door. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, whatever.” I crossed my arms over my chest, even though he couldn’t see me yet. I was really good at this drama queen thing – possibly too good.

He took a few tentative steps into the room, but didn’t come near me. I supposed he didn’t think it was safe. I sort of felt bad for him; he must have thought I was really angry at him for kissing Zac. I highly doubted that it had happened that way, though. I trusted Seamus. But Zac and his little smirk? I didn’t trust him at all. There was no way that I could let Seamus in on the reality of what had happened, though. Once I had smoothed things over with him, however dishonestly, I could worry about bashing Zac’s head in. If I really let Zac have it, maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty for letting Seamus assume I was angry with him. I could only hope.

“Look, Tay,” Seamus said, then sighed. “I’m… I’m just really sorry you had to see that. I don’t know what has gotten into you brother, and I don’t want to tell stories on him, but you’ve got to believe me. _He_ kissed _me_.”

I gave Shay what I hoped was a suitably skeptical look, then glanced away. He took a few steps closer to me, but still didn’t sit down next to me.

“Please believe me,” he said. “I didn’t want to kiss him. And if you hadn’t seen it, I would have told you about it. The guilt, you know. And I feel so guilty anyway, even though you did see it and I didn’t want it to happen. It’s just… so wrong.”

Well, that didn’t make me feel any better. He had no clue about the knife he’d just driven into my back and twisted. How could he? But every word he spoke about guilt only reminded me how awful I was for lying to him. There was no way he would ever understand what I had done with Zac. I couldn’t stop myself from groaning at the thought of it.

Seamus collapsed onto the coach next to me and reached for my hands. “Tay. Honestly, I never, ever wanted that to happen. I mean, your brother is… well, he’s not unattractive, but I didn’t even know he liked guys. I never would have made _any_ sort of move on him. That was all him; you’ve got to believe me.”

I sighed, but didn’t look at him. “Yeah. I do. I believe you.”

“You do?” He asked. “You’re not… I mean, I’d understand if you were still angry.”

Of course he would. Because once again, he just had to be fucking perfect and remind me how awful of a person I was.

“I’m not angry,” I replied. “I’m just… frustrated, I guess. I don’t really know what to say.”

I have this real gift for using words but not actually saying anything. Sometimes the bullshit I spew amazes even me.

Shay scooted a little closer and sighed. “I know. Believe me, I don’t know what to say, either. I mean, is he even… is Zac gay? Not that it’s really any of my business.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what he is. Confused, I guess. But he’s… he’s been with guys before. I do know that.”

And I didn’t need Seamus to ever, _ever_ know how I knew that.

“Oh, I see,” he replied. “Well, maybe he’s just… trying to figure things out. That can be tough, can’t it? You remember what it was like. I didn’t have any easy time of it, either. I kind of feel for the guy.”

Once again, Seamus was perfect, and I was a giant douchebag. What could I even say to that? I could only hope that he took my silence as agreement with what he’d said, but I really didn’t feel anything for Zac at the moment aside from contempt.

“Do you think… maybe you should talk to him?” Shay asked.

“I don’t even know what I would say.”

“He probably needs someone, though,” Shay said. “Like you said, he’s probably just confused. Talking to someone who’s been there would be good for him, wouldn’t it?”

I had to try really hard not to roll my eyes at that. Of course Seamus couldn’t know what was really going on in Zac’s mind – even I didn’t totally understand that – but I hated that somehow, what he did know made him feel sorry for Zac. I felt like it was my fault, too, for letting him think that Zac wasn’t just being a giant brat right now. But how could I explain that, anyway? I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Yeah,” I finally replied. “I guess… I probably should talk to him.”

“He’s probably still sulking on the bus, if you want to have a little chat with him right now,” Seamus offered.

Well, that sounded perfect. I doubted he was sulking, though. Gloating seemed more likely. Either way, I figured it was like ripping off a bandage. Might as well do it as soon and as quickly as possible. I gave Seamus a quick kiss, tried to ignore the lingering taste of beer and told him I would see him later.

There was a tiny part of me that, as I walked back to the bus, considered just turning around and leaving. I didn’t, though. Where could I go? Running away was ridiculous and would only create more problems, no matter how wonderful it sounded. Instead, I sucked it up and walked right back to the back of the bus, where I found Zac, as usual, curled up on the couch playing a video game.

“What the _fuck_ did you do that for?”

That probably wasn’t how Seamus expected me to begin the conversation. Oh well.

Zac just shrugged and smirked.

“That’s not a fucking answer,” I said. “You kissed my fucking boyfriend.”

“You fucked me,” Zac replied with a shrug.

“I’m aware of that,” I replied, trying to keep myself calm. It wasn’t easy. “But do you want everyone to find out about that? Because I don’t. But if you pull little stunts like this, it’s going to be really fucking hard to explain what’s going on. You can’t just do shit like that.”

Zac’s brow furrowed and it looked like he was considering how to reply. In the end, he settled on complete silence.

“Look,” I said. “I don’t know why you’re upset. We agreed it shouldn’t have happened, didn’t we? I know it’s… it’s gonna be a while before things go back to normal, if they even can. But I’m trying to make this work with him. I just wish you would respect that.”

“Because you know so much about respect.” Zac snorted.

What could I even say to that? He had a point. It hadn’t taken me a week to _cheat_ on Seamus. With my own brother, no less. I had no right to talk about what was right, normal or respectful. Surely Zac could at least see that he wasn’t doing either of us any favors by throwing tantrums, though.

“Just… please don’t do anything like that again, okay?” I practically pleaded. “If I’m going to fuck this up, then let _me_ fuck it up. I don’t need your help.”

That only made him smirk more, and I really had to resist the urge to smack that particular expression right off his face.

“Sucks to see the person you love with someone else, doesn’t it?” He asked. “You might want to keep that in mind.”

“I don’t – ” I began, then clamped my mouth shut. With nothing more to say to him, I stormed out of the room.

I didn’t _not_ love Seamus. But wasn’t it too soon to say something like that? Too soon to even feel it. I feared, though, that Zac hadn’t even meant that. Maybe he hadn’t even been talking about me seeing Seamus with him. Something told me that he too knew what it was like to see the person he loved with someone else.

That thought made me want to get as drunk as I suspected Zac was.

I’d barely made it to the front of the bus to grab a beer when the bus door swung open. I wasn’t surprised at all to see Seamus standing there. It was just that kind of night. He gave me a sheepish little smile and helped himself to a beer as well before speaking.

“Well, did you two have a nice chat?”

I shrugged. “We had a chat.”

“You can’t expect to solve all his problems overnight,” Shay said, casually draping himself across the couch. “It’s going to take time, you know? I’m sure he’s got a lot going on in his mind right now. It’ll take a while for him to sort out all his feelings.”

“Yeah. I guess it will.” I suddenly felt like the beer was a horrible idea. I stared down at it, afraid that if I took even one sip, I’d just throw it up.

“Hey,” Shay said, throwing an arm around me. “We’re alright though, aren’t we? You know I’m sorry.”

“I know,” I replied. “We’re fine.”

If I repeated that enough, maybe I would even believe it. If I couldn’t convince myself, though, what hope did I have of convincing Seamus?


	26. Rain

Zac’s smugness barely seemed to fade at all as we drove on to Minneapolis for the next show. If Seamus noticed, he must have been too confused by it to even formulate any sort of remark. And Seamus? Well, he was walking on eggshells around me. I could tell, and I hated it. It should have been Zac who was afraid to touch me, afraid to even get near me, but no. It was my boyfriend who was scared of me hating him for something that wasn’t even remotely his fault.

I don’t know if Zac’s goal when he decided to kiss Seamus was to make me feel like absolute shit, but if so, he had succeeded.

That night’s concert was at this strange outdoor venue. I don’t even who the hell even booked it. And it just figured that the day we had to play outdoors, it started to look like rain early in the afternoon. We did a shorter soundcheck than I would have liked and practically sprinted our way through the walk, just in case. All afternoon, our crew stayed glued to their phones and radios, trying to keep up with the latest forecasts. It seemed like a big storm was on the way. I couldn’t help but see the symbolism in it.

The heavens opened up just minutes before Seamus was set to take the stage. The crew rushed to cover up any equipment that might be damaged while we huddled under umbrellas backstage. It didn’t take us long to decide that if the rain stopped soon, we’d go on with the show.

Miraculously, it did. Seamus was nearly thirty minutes late starting his set, but the concert went on as planned. It was one bright spot in a series of days that seemed to do nothing but go wrong.

Despite that one little ray of sunshine, literally and metaphorically speaking, I didn’t feel like going out and celebrating after the show, as apparently everyone else did. Seamus didn’t push me to go with them, and for that I was thankful. Yet the longer he was gone, drinking god knows how much with god knows who, the more I started to mope. It was stupid, I knew, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I wasn’t going to let him know how stupid I felt for staying in the hotel and moping, though. So what did I do instead? Continue to mope, of course. Knowing that Seamus would come back to the room smelling like a bar anyway, I figured it was safe to sneak outside and smoke a cigarette or two. I still had part of a pack left somewhere in my suitcase, although I really hadn’t smoked much during this tour. Shay never commented on it, but I could see the subtle judgment in his eyes each time I lit up, so despite the fact that I really needed a few smokes to bring my stress level down, I rarely gave in to that need.

Now that he was gone for the night, I had my chance. I finally located the cigarettes and my lighter and made my way outside to indulge myself. It was still cloudy, but it was a nice night – just a little bit cool, but it still felt like summer. I could have stayed outside forever, just leaning against the hotel wall and smoking the entire rest of my pack of Marlboros.

It didn’t bring my stress down, though, as I’d hoped. I sucked down several cigarettes in a row and they only left me jittery, pacing the deserted parking lot. There were plenty of cars around, but no one else in sight. If anyone had been there to see me, I would surely have looked like a madman, but that’s nothing new for me.

I was just stomping out my third cigarette when a little bit of movement caught my eye. I glanced up and saw someone walking toward me. It made this nervous tingle dance up my spine. It was probably just some other person staying at the hotel; they were walking my way, but not necessary _toward_ me. As the person drew nearer, though, I saw that it wasn’t some random person. It was Zac.

I briefly considered scurrying back into the hotel, but it was too late. Even though it was dark out, I could feel Zac’s eyes on me. I was caught.

“I thought everyone went out drinking,” he said once he was within earshot.

“Evidently not,” I replied. “At least, it’s everyone minus you and me.”

“And Shay?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.

I shook my head. “No, he went. I didn’t feel up to it, though.”

“He must really trust you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I don’t know why I bothered to ask. We both knew exactly what it meant, but somehow it made me feel better to pretend that I didn’t understand why Zac kept accusing me of being just as horrible as I was.

Zac just shook his head. “Nevermind.”

We stood in awkward silence for a moment. I didn’t know what to say to him, and I guess he didn’t know what to say to me either. How had things gotten so fucked up that I couldn’t even talk to my own brother? I knew the answer to that, though. Things had been fucked up for a long time. I wanted to say something, to try to fix it, but I knew I couldn’t. My mouth fell open anyway, but no words came out, just a tiny sigh that was drowned out by a clap of thunder.

I guess I’d been too busy brooding and smoking to even notice that the storm clouds were still gathering above my head. They burst forth all at once and in a matter of seconds, Zac and I were drenched. It seemed to break the tension, at least. We stared at each other for a moment, eyes wide, then both began laughing and running for the hotel door. It was the most carefree and silly I’d felt with Zac for ages. A tiny part of me wanted to grab his hand and run through the puddles, but I knew that was stupid. So I just settled for giving him a smile as we burst through the hotel door, dripping all over the floor.

The clerk at the front desk gave us a strange look, but I didn’t care. For at least a brief moment, I had my brother back. Still laughing and smiling, we walked down the hallway toward our rooms. Zac’s was a few doors down from mine, but I could feel him still close behind me even when we passed the door that I was pretty sure was his. I turned around to ask him what he was doing, but his face was unreadable and it erased the question from my mind. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled my key card from my pocket and opened the door, leaving it open behind me to let Zac follow me in.

When the door clicked shut behind him, I spun around to ask him what he was doing. The truth was, I didn’t need to ask. I knew I didn’t. And the words didn’t make it out of my mouth, anyway, before Zac’s lips were covering mine and putting a stop to _anything_ I might have said.

I should have stopped him. I knew I should have stopped him. Every time we were together, I knew should have, and every time, I _couldn’t_. When Zac was annoying and infuriating, it was easy to tell myself that what we’d done was a mistake and it shouldn’t happen again. But that night, he smiled. For just a moment, he looked happy and carefree, and I found that I wanted to do whatever I had to do to keep him looking that way.

“Please, Tay,” he whispered, his lips brushing against mine with each syllable.

I couldn’t refuse him.

He might have said please, but there wasn’t a moment that Zac wasn’t in control, and I think he knew it. With his hands firmly on my hips, he led us toward the bed, nudging me backward onto it and quickly climbing on top of me. As he covered my body in kisses and tugged my clothes off, I could do no more than lay there and wonder when my little brother became such a sex god. That was my role, wasn’t it? Yet here I was, absolutely putty in his hands.

His lips seemed to set every spot they touched on fire. When he made his way down to my cock, freed it from my boxers, and wrapped his lips around it, I thought I might just melt. He was trying to destroy me, I was sure of it. It was only his desperate little moans as he sucked me that made me realize that Zac was enjoying it just as much as I was.

I let out a pathetic little whine of my own when he pulled away and stood up. Even though Zac was no longer straddling me, I still felt glued to the bed. I didn’t mind, though. I was in the perfect spot to enjoy the view as he ripped his clothes off. He glanced around the room for a moment, then opened his mouth as though he were going to ask me something, his brow furrowed adorably. A second later, he lunged for the nightstand, and I didn’t have to follow his hand to know that he’d found the bottle of lube Seamus and I had left there earlier.

Seamus.

I hated myself for even thinking about him while this was happening. It was so much easier if I could just lose myself in Zac and forget about all the reasons why this was so wrong. No matter how hard I tried, though, Seamus always seemed to make his way back into my mind.

Thoughts of him only vanished when Zac finally climbed back on top of me, his strong thighs planted firmly on either side of my own legs. Zac took his time, no doubt just trying to tease me, opening the lube and squeezing a generous amount onto his hand. His large hand covered me easily, coating my dick with the cold lube. It was a mixture of sensations that left me tingling all over, my body practically humming with anticipation of what I knew was coming.

All too soon, Zac pulled away, wiping his hand on his own stomach. His thighs tightened their grip on me as he readjusted his position and lowered himself onto me. In one smooth move that seemed more well-practiced than I wanted to think about, he was on me, my dick pressed all the way into him. We moaned at the same time, and I nearly laughed at the perfect harmony of it.

Zac wasted no time building up his speed. When it felt this good to be with him, I didn’t really care or even want to know how he got so damn good. In my stupid, lust-filled mind, I imagined it was only because it was the two of us that it was so good. Even those thoughts vanished from my mind as quickly as they’d came; everything was focused on the way Zac felt, his rips rolling against mine as he rode me. I could feel nothing else but him and even my other senses seemed nearly entirely filled with him. The only sounds that made it to my ears were his moans and the rain pounding against the building.

I wanted it to last forever, but of course, it couldn’t. Zac must have sensed that I was close. He took his own cock into his hand and stroked it quickly, and that was all it took to push me the rest of the way over the edge. Finally coming back to life, just a little, I grasped his hips and rolled my own upward to meet his movements, pushing myself even deeper into him than I thought possible. He shot his load across my chest with a loud moan just as I came inside him.

As I lay motionless beneath him, trying to remember how to breathe, I noticed that the rain had stopped.

Whatever spell the rain had cast over us, it was broken. Zac wasted no time climbing off me and pulling his clothes back on. He barely even gave me a second glance before slipping out of the room. I wanted to say something, something that would make him stay, but I knew that I couldn’t. Even if I could have found the right words, I knew that Seamus would surely be back soon. With nothing else I could do, I pulled myself from the bed and to the bathroom, hoping that a shower would wash away the sins that the rain hadn’t.


	27. Lies

I woke up the next morning feeling terrible, both mentally and physically. My entire body ached like I’d been the one out drinking the night before, not Seamus. Speaking of Seamus, he was nowhere to be found. It took me a few seconds to wake up enough to realize that the shower was running. I barely even remembered him coming in the night before and slipping into bed with me, but there was a telltale trail of clothing leading toward our bed, and I couldn’t imagine anyone other than him would be using our shower.

Except perhaps Zac. But I _did_ remember him leaving without so much as a single word.

I knew he was the reason that I felt like shit. I had washed the evidence of him from my body, but I couldn’t wash him from my soul. I couldn’t get away from him completely, and it was only a matter of time before Seamus saw the traces of him that couldn’t be scrubbed away. In the meantime, I was going to do everything in my power to hide it, but I just didn’t think it would be enough.

Feeling like I was being crushed under the weight of it all, I couldn’t even bring myself to get out of bed. A quick glance at the clock beside the hotel bed told me that it was getting close to noon. It was our day off, though, so I wasn’t really concerned. I was surprised that Shay had slept in so late, but I supposed he had been quite drunk when he got back. Not too drunk to slip silently into bed without waking me, though. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he was up to something, but I knew that I was the liar and cheat in the relationship, not him.

By the time Seamus finished his shower and walked back into the room, a towel slung low on his waist, I still hadn’t moved an inch from my position on the bed. I barely even had the energy or will to lift my head enough to shamelessly stare at him as he dropped the towel and shimmied into a pair of jeans that were probably mine. I didn’t call him out on it, though. I didn’t do a damn thing but stare and feel like a horrible human being for oh so many reasons.

“I feel like shit,” he said, rummaging through his suitcase for a t-shirt to go with the jeans that I was positive were mine.

“I can relate,” I mumbled.

Shay spun around and raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh, can you? I thought _I_ was the one who got shitfaced last night.”

Damn. I hadn’t even realized I’d replied loud enough for him to hear me. I needed an explanation for why I felt like shit, but I could think of none. I offered him a shrug and said, “You are. I’m just tired, I guess.”

“You slept like the dead, though. Didn’t even wake up when I came in.”

There was that little mystery solved, I supposed. Not that there was much of a mystery to it; Shay was pretty much an open book. I didn’t really think he was hiding anything from me.

“I guess I did,” I replied with another shrug. “I don’t really remember.”

“Obviously,” he replied, a tiny note of amusement in his voice.

I could tell that he was close to interrogating me. He knew _something_ was up, but he couldn’t figure out what. I knew that phase well. The phase were there’s just that nagging feeling that you’re missing something, so you ask lots of questions and second guess everything to try to get some hint of what it is. Of course, I’d never been on that side of things before. I was always the guilty one. And it seemed that everything I knew about how to lie my way out of anything had vanished from my mind. Shay might have still been a few steps behind me, but he was catching up fast, and I kept tripping over my own feet.

He finally settled on a faded Nick Cave shirt, and as he slipped it over his head, he asked, “So, what wore you out last night anyway? Figured you’d be bored here all alone… should have come out with us.”

“Wasn’t really feeling up to it,” I replied, repeating my assertions from the night before. I didn’t really know why I hadn’t wanted to drink. It was strange for me, I knew. I had no good explanation for it… or for why I was in such a foul mood. “Nothing wore me out, really. Just the tour in general.”

It was a complete and total lie, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t very well tell him that sleeping with my brother had been what sapped all my energy.

“I see,” he said, walking over to the bed and climbing in next to me. “Well, we’ve got plenty of free time until we leave for Milwaukee tonight. So we can rest up a bit.”

“Yeah, I guess that will help…” I trailed off as Shay curled up beside me and laid his head on my shoulder.

These little moments with him, when our bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly, made me wonder what I needed Zac for. But I knew that as soon as I was with Zac again, and it _would_ happen again, I would struggle to remember what I saw in anyone else but him. It was just this endless tug of war, trying to find some reason and will to give one of them up.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I barely noticed the strange look on Shay’s face or the way that he was sniffing at my hair.

“Tay?”

“Hmm?”

“You smell like smoke.”

Well, shit.

“Did someone sneak out for a smoke last night?”

“Umm,” I replied. “I did, yeah. You know I smoke, Shay.”

“Sometimes. I didn’t know you did it that often. You know you stink, right?”

So much for that shower washing away Zac. It couldn’t even wash away my lesser sins, it seemed. I still couldn’t quite believe this was really turning into an argument. I knew that he didn’t like the cigarettes; he’d turned his nose up at them enough times for me to figure that out. I supposed it didn’t help that I was obviously trying to hide them from him. But what _wasn’t_ I trying to hide from him? A few cigarettes were nothing compared to certain other things I’d done.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” I replied, not wanting to fight at all. “Sorry. I can’t really smell it.”

“Well, trust me. You stink.”

The more he repeated it, the more my frustration grew. I didn’t want to fight, but it was seeming inevitable. “Well, should I go take a shower?”

“Nah, I’m hungry. Just… whatever. I’ll try to deal with it. Let’s go get lunch.”

He might have said he would deal with it, but the shortness of his words and the way he sprang from the bed without so much as kissing me said that he definitely wasn’t dealing with it very well. If this was a sign of things to come, I could only imagine how he would handle my bigger lies.

Still not wanting to argue with him any more than absolutely necessary, I stood up and began rummaging around my suitcase for something to wear. After some searching, I was dressed in jeans and a shirt that I really hoped smelled neither like smoke nor like Zac. Knowing my luck, he’d sneaked into the room and doused all my belongings in his cologne or something. I didn’t think that Zac actually wore cologne, but it still seemed like the sort of stunt he would pull.

Seamus re-emerged from the bathroom a moment later and I instinctively reached for his hand. He didn’t offer it. He hurried on past me, ignoring me completely as he shoved his wallet and cell phone into his pocket. Part of me wanted to believe that he was just getting ready to leave and wasn’t _really_ ignoring me, but I could feel the tension in the air. I knew Shay was annoyed with me and that annoyance was manifesting itself in this immature ignoring thing.

I had finally found his imperfection, I supposed.

I didn’t really understand _why_ he was being that way, though. Was it the smoking? Did that really bother him so much? Was he angry that I hadn’t joined him for the night, and then, that I had smoked while he was gone? Maybe he could just sense that I was lying to him about something – something more meaningful than a few cigarettes. I just didn’t know, and his entire demeanor told me it was best not to ask.

“Tay,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Are you coming?”

I glanced up and saw that he was already standing at the door, turning the knob over and over impatiently as he stared at me. I guess I must have drifted off in thought. I do that sometimes.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I replied, giving him the best smile I could manage. I was pretty sure it still wasn’t much, and Shay didn’t even try to return it.

Was this really how our relationship was going to fall apart? Because of a few cigarettes?

It seemed so ridiculous to even consider, but I couldn’t deny the tension between us as we left the hotel room and began our trek down the hallway. It was this huge, tangible thing, practically an actual wall separating us. Anyone could have seen it; we each hugged opposite walls as we walked, not coming close to each other at all.

It was just my luck, of course, that Zac’s door clicked open just before we reached it. He stepped out into the hallway and glanced at the two of us, walking so far apart that we might as well have been strangers. There was a tiny smirk on his face and I could tell that he was feeling a little smug about the scene in front of him. I wanted to shout out that it was his fault, but I knew that he would only be proud of himself.

And I knew that, really, it was my fault, too. Maybe even more than it was Zac’s.


	28. In The Details

It was starting to become very obvious to me just how inexperienced I was with relationships. There really wasn’t much I wasn’t experienced with, but actually relationships? Those would have been at the top of that very short list. The few I’d been in had blown up in my face and ended for very big and very bad reasons.

I’d always wondered how normal relationships ended. The sort of relationships where there weren’t any major problems – not that, of course, my relationship with Shay was one of those. But for all he knew at that point, it might have been. How did those sort of relationships, where the two people involved seemed compatible and happy, end?

It seemed, as far as I could tell, that the devil was in the details.

Even though it seemed like such a minuscule thing to argue over, my smoking seemed to have driven a huge wedge between Seamus and myself. I didn’t understand why he was so angry about it. Did he suspect that I was hiding something worse? He wouldn’t have been wrong. Out of sheer stubbornness, I wanted to smoke even more just to piss him off. I knew it was silly, and I knew I was so, so in the wrong, but it didn’t stop me from being upset that he was making such a big deal out of a few cigarettes.

I couldn’t help wondering if this was going to be how it ended, without him ever finding out about Zac. It seemed too easy, though, so I doubted this would really be the end. It was only the beginning of the end, only the beginning of  
hay realizing I really wasn’t boyfriend material.

When we stopped late in the night for snacks and things, I couldn’t resist the urge to buy another pack of cigarettes. I rationalized it by reminding myself that my other pack had gotten soaked through and ruined in the sudden downpour, but I knew that I was mostly doing it to piss Seamus off. He didn’t come near me in the truckstop, but I could feel his eyes on me even across the aisles. I could feel his judgment. Whether it was for the cigarettes or not, I knew I deserved it. Why bother doing anything to dissuade him from hating me when he really had every reason to?

I made a point of leaning against the side of the bus, right next to the door where everyone could see me, and lighting up a cigarette. I was the first one in and out of the truckstop with my purchases, so I got to watch as everyone else made their way back and forth. Seamus raised an eyebrow at me as he passed, then shook his head. I knew he wanted to say something, but whatever it was, he seemed to think better of it before the words made it all the way to his mouth.

As I sucked in long draws on the cigarette, I knew that I was fucking this relationship up in every way possible. I just didn’t know how to stop myself.

****

Seamus and I slept in our own bunks that night. That seemed to be what happened when we were arguing in any way. It was a subtle thing, putting that little bit of distance between us, but it spoke volumes – not just to us, but to everyone else on the bus. I wasn’t surprised, when I stumbled to the front of the bus for my first morning cup of coffee, to see Zac giving me that same smug smile he’d given me the day before. He knew that he was driving me and Seamus apart, and he was loving every second of it.

I had to wonder if he even knew how much I wanted to punch him in his smug little face.

As always, I had to remind myself that punching him wouldn’t solve any of my problems. I still had no clue what would, though, besides never sleeping with him again. And I had a sinking feeling that wasn’t really a possibility.

All through the morning, as we made our way into Milwaukee, Seamus and I were hardly more than friendly to each other. I knew everyone had to see the tension. I wanted to reach out to him, to try to fix things, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know where to begin.

So, instead of fixing anything at all, I took my pack of cigarettes outside the venue and found what looked like a secluded spot to smoke.

I was halfway through my first cigarette when I heard a door swing open. I willed myself not to look that way to see who it was. Knowing my luck, it had to be either Zac or Seamus. It turned out to be the latter. Without a word, he leaned against the wall next to me, deliberately moving to the side where my smoke _wasn’t_ blowing. The stupid spiteful part of my brain wanted to turn around and blow it in his face.

But that would be childish, right? With that thought in mind, I manage to restrain myself.

“I do really wish you’d quit that, you know,” Seamus said, but his voice held less contempt that I expected. It was soft and almost apologetic, so low and light that I wasn’t even sure I’d heard right correctly at first.

I sighed out a cloud of smoke. “Yeah. I know.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” he continued. “I just… wish you would. But it’s not my place to tell you what to do.”

“Isn’t it?” I tilted my head to the side, barely glancing at him.

“No,” he replied. “It’s not. You can do what you want. It’s… it’s kind of silly of me to get so upset about it, anyway, I suppose.”

“Is this an apology?” I couldn’t resist asking, even though I was quite certain that it was and that I didn’t deserve it at all.

“Yes. No. A bit, I suppose.” There was a slight smirk on his face as he said it, and I couldn’t help returning it.

“Well, I guess I apologize a bit, too.”

I wasn’t sure how that would go over, but luckily, Shay laughed. He honestly laughed. I let out a laugh of my own, a trail of smoke coming out of my mouth along with it. I watched it float off into the air, then tossed my cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out.

“I hope you know this doesn’t mean I’m quitting for good,” I said, casting a glance at Shay to see how he took that.

“Fair enough,” he replied with a shrug. “Whatever it means, I appreciate it.”

I took a big chance and inched closer to his side, not quite touching his body but still close enough to feel its heat on me. “So… does this mean we’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I suppose it does.”

My smile at that was so big that it was actually painful, but I didn’t care. I knew I should feel guilty for somehow managing to patch things up, however tenuously, but I didn’t. I was just happy that the little house of cards I had built was still standing. I reached for Shay’s hand and he gave it willingly, our fingers twinning together like that was exactly where they belonged.

I knew everything still wasn’t perfect. I was still a horrible person who didn’t deserve a guy like him. I was still _lying_ to him. Our relationship still had far bigger problems than a little nicotine. But for the moment, those problems didn’t matter.

Of course, that moment couldn’t last long. Nothing good in my life ever could, it seemed. It was a lesson you’d think I would have learned long ago, yet I still found myself disproportionately angry whenever something came along to ruin a good thing.

The sound of footsteps and laughter fell upon my ears, and although it didn’t sound like anyone I knew, it still made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. After so many years, you develop a sort of fan radar. You can spot them a mile away – and they can spot you from the same distance, if not farther.

A group of them rounded the corner, and my natural instinct was to drop Shay’s hand, but he only tightened his grip on mine. What could I do? I felt stuck, like a deer in headlights. I had to remind myself that it wasn’t as though I’d ever made any attempt to hide my… relationships… from the fans before. I hadn’t thrown them in their faces, either, though. If they knew, they knew. If they didn’t, it was mostly their choice to stay ignorant of the gossip.

I had a big choice of my own to make right then, but it seemed Shay was making it for me.

One of the fans glanced my way and I could see the recognition and excitement flash through her eyes. She nudged another one, and that one glanced my way as well. From the distance, I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but to my surprise, none of them approached us. Instead, they just went on their way, giggling as they went.

I let out a huge sigh once they were out of sight. I felt awful for the sense of relief that flooded me; it wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate or want to talk to fans, but sometimes – especially when I had just mended fences with my boyfriend – a little privacy was nice.

“Well, that was fun,” Shay said, chuckling. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, you know.”

I let out a laugh of my own. “I don’t think _I’ll_ ever get used to it.”

He chuckled again and wrapped his free arm around me, pulling me closer to him. Our identical heights made it awkward to try to rest my head on his shoulder, but I didn’t care. I did it anyway, my lips just barely grazing the bare skin above the collar of his shirt.

“Reckon they’ll be talking about spotting us together?” He asked.

I sighed again, aware of the way it made him squirm when my breath hit his skin. “Probably. Who knows. If they saw our hands… but whatever. I’m not ashamed, you know.”

“Never said you were.”

I didn’t feel like pointing out that there were other things in my life that I was far more ashamed of than I was him. I still didn’t want to think about what would happen if he ever found about that. I had to hold onto hope that if we could get through these tiny little fights, we could find a way to survive the bigger ones, too. I didn’t really believe it, but it was all I had.


	29. Fans

The concert that night was incredible, and I credited that to making up with Shay just a few hours beforehand. I didn’t know how our relationship was going to continue to hold itself together, but for that night, I was glad that it was. I felt refreshed and ready to dive into my performance like never before. Even Zac didn’t seem as angry as usual; everyone was on and the show was just perfect.

That energy followed us all off stage, too, where Shay was waiting in the wings to sweep me up into his arms. At the moment, I didn’t give a single fuck whether or not anyone saw our public display of affection. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, kissing him as he spun me around. It was perfect. Cheesy, but there was no other way to describe that feeling.

If Zac saw us and got angry again, I didn’t notice. I was off in my own little world with my boyfriend.

_Boyfriend._

It felt so wonderful to still be able to think of him that way. I almost had to laugh at myself; just a few weeks ago, I never would have imagined myself wanting to apply that title to anyone. Yet there I was, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t forfeit the title. I didn’t know how things had changed so quickly, but I was surprisingly glad that they had.

Despite the fact that some parts of my behavior hadn’t changed, I was starting to feel like a new Taylor.

After our little impromptu makeout session by the side of the stage, Shay and I made a detour to the green room for a few beers. I figured that after a show that good, they were well deserved to aid in the celebration. We took our time with our beer and pizza, just enjoying each others’ company. Even in a crowded room, it felt like we were the only two people there. For all that I noticed anyone else, we might as well have been.

I was on my third beer before I even considered leaving the green room. I was still on such a high from the concert that I almost didn’t want to leave the venue at all. Leaving meant that a perfect night was over. Who knew what they next day, or even the next few hours, might hold? Why couldn’t Shay and I just stay right there, where things were perfect and the world was full of beer and pizza?

Obviously I knew that was irrational, so when he started gathering up his things to leave, I reluctantly followed suit.

Most of the others had already made their way out of the venue, although there were still people milling around, packing everything up for the night. With our backpacks, but sadly without our beers, Shay and I made our way through the venue toward the back door that lead to where the bus was parked. We weren’t very well isolated from the fans the way that this venue’s parking lot was set up, but I had a little bit of a buzz going, so I didn’t really care.

It wasn’t one of my smarter moments.

I don’t know what Shay was thinking, but he didn’t loosen his grip on my hand even after we were outside, where I immediately heard the voices of chattering fans. I was pretty sure that Zac was already signing autographs, but I was also sure that wouldn’t matter to any fans who happened to spot me. They would want my autograph, too, and I couldn’t really refuse them. I hadn’t spent nearly enough time with the fans this tour and I knew it.

“Got a Sharpie?” I asked Shay, then nodded my head toward the fans.

Rather than dig through his own bag, he reached into mine, pulling out a black Sharpie only a moment later. I don’t know how he knew right where to find one, but evidently, he did. Sometimes I thought he might actually be inside my brain, but if he truly was, I didn’t think he would want anything to do with me.

With the Sharpie in hand, I knew I had no good reason left to procrastinate. A few of the fans had already spotted me and were calling out to me. I glanced back at Shay and he just chuckled and shrugged. That wasn’t very helpful. At some point during the search for a marker, I suppose, he must have let go of my hand. I suddenly noticed its absence and I didn’t like it. At the same time, I didn’t feel particularly comfortable with the idea of walking right up to the fans with my boyfriend’s hand in mine. That was a step I wasn’t quite sure I was ready to take. So, without his comforting presence, even though he stayed a few steps behind me, I steeled myself and walked toward the crowd of fans.

I don’t know if Shay really knew what to expect from our fans or not; as far as I was aware, this was the first time he’d joined in with the after concert fun. He didn’t really have that many fans of his own, at least not the sort who hung around for autographs and pictures, so I had a feeling this was all pretty new to him.

It didn’t take long for my fans to latch onto him, though. I’d only just begun signing the various CDs, posters and things they were shoving at me before a few of them decided to flock to him instead. I wanted to listen in on their conversations, but I couldn’t do that and concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing. I kept finding myself distracted when I should have been listening to what a fan was saying to me, and I knew they could all tell something was off about me. I’m sure they didn’t appreciate that I wasn’t giving much attention to their stories, but I had my boyfriend to worry about. Of course, he seemed to be holding up just fine, laughing and smiling at whatever some fan had just said to him.

I lose all sense of time when I’m signing autographs. It felt like it could have been five minutes or two hours, but eventually, the crowd began to thin out. As the crowd thinned, I had a better view of Seamus. I could overhear the conversations going on around us a little better, too, now that there weren’t so many people chattering at once.

“Don’t they look cute together? Do you think they’re really…”

That one got my attention. I didn’t need to guess who they were talking about. The fact that my eyes were glued on Shay and I could feel a smile spreading across my face was a pretty good hint. It was the same stupid smile I felt take over my face every time I looked at him. I just couldn’t help it, and I was sure the fans were noticing.

I tried to tune them out as I continued to sign whatever was thrust at me, but it’s pretty obvious when all the people around you are talking about you. There’s just this certain prickly feeling you get, this weird thing that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. They must have sensed that I was paying attention, though, because it seemed as though they all lowered their voices at once. I could see them glancing back and forth between me and Shay, though, and whispering.

It had been nearly a decade since anything had made me feel so self conscious and uncertain about myself. It had taken me a while to accept myself, but once I did, I never looked back. Until right then.

Was I really having second thoughts?

I hated myself for it. I shook my head and turned back to the fans, plastering on a fake smile and continuing to sign whatever was handed to me. I hated that a few of them seemed to have picked up on my relationship with Shay. But worse than that, I hated how it was getting to me and making me question everything. I wasn’t like this. I wasn’t a nervous, insecure person. I didn’t care what anyone thought of me.

Or did I?

I hated this sudden indecision, but I didn’t know how to escape it, other than just running from the fans and hiding. But that wasn’t really practical, was it? Instead, I stuck it out, signing every last autograph, even though it felt like my world was closing in around me. When the fans eventually left Shay alone and he made his way back to my side, my situation only worsened.

I knew it was silly to let this get to me so much, though. That was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. That one little rational voice in the back of my mind, the one I so rarely listened to, was the only thing tethering me to reality and preventing me from running away screaming.

Of course, Shay’s presence was helping, too. It was strange that he could comfort me and be the cause of my problems at the same time, but that seemed to be the way it was. In a way, it made no sense at all, and in another way, it made perfect sense that he was part of what was tearing me apart. He stood close behind me, not touching but close enough that I could feel him with every tiny move I made, as I signed the last few autographs. I wondered if he had noticed the fans’ little stares and comments, but of course, I couldn’t ask him while we were still surrounded by them.

Finally, after what truly seemed like forever, the last remaining fan left with her freshly autographed CD. Zac still lingered a few feet away, and the fans who hadn’t left entirely seemed to be gravitating toward him. This was my chance to escape, I supposed. I glanced at Shay and he gave me a nod that said he was thinking the same thing. I wondered if he could read my mind and see just how much I’d been panicking.

He didn’t take my hand as we walked away, toward the bus, and I didn’t know what to make of that. Maybe it meant nothing at all. Maybe he _did_ know how nervous the fans had made me and this was his subtle way of trying to help. I didn’t want to deny him, though. I didn’t want to hide. That seemed at odds with my desire to run away, but I knew that if one of the fans had actually asked, I would have told her the truth; that yes, he _was_ my boyfriend. I might have been terrified, but I knew I was where I needed to be, in spite of that fear. I didn’t take his hand either, but I did inch a little closer to him as we walked along, enjoying the little comfort that closeness gave me.

The bus door had barely slammed shut behind us before Shay headed to the bus’s mini fridge and pulled out two beers. He held one of them out to me.

“I think we could both use another of these, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I replied, sighing.

Shay collapsed onto the couch with his beer. “Your fans, Tay… they’re something else.”

“Tell me about it,” I replied, taking a seat next to him and trying to resist the urge to just curl up in his lap. We might have been alone for the moment, but it still didn’t seem like the wisest idea.

“Well, since you insisted,” he said, chuckling. “They’re just… intense. I’ve never seen anything like that. Pretty sure they’re onto us, you know.”

“Oh, really? What gave you that idea?”

He only laughed. “Oh, nothing. Does it bother you that much that they know you’re… and that we’re…?”

I shook my head, but I could see that he wasn’t convinced. Hell, I hadn’t even convinced myself. Shay pulled me closer and I sighed. “I don’t know… I’ve never really been that open about my relationships before. Not that I’ve really had any _relationships_ to speak of. It’s just new, you know? I’ve got to figure out how to deal with this. Usually they’re just speculating behind my back. It’s never been just… right there in their faces before.”

He nodded as though he understand, but I wasn’t sure if he really did. “Well, we’re not going to hide are we? I don’t think I’d like that. Not that I want to rub it in their faces or anything…”

“Of course not,” I said. “No, we don’t have to hide…”

I wanted to say more, though I didn’t know quite what. But whatever words I might have mustered up fell out of my head entirely when the bus door opened and I saw Zac. He didn’t take my breath away; it was more like being punched in the gut, really, and having all the air forcibly removed from your body. There was nothing romantic about it. It just _hurt_. The way his eyes bore into mine only made it hurt more.

Like a flash, though, he was gone, stomping his way toward the back of the bus.

Shay raised an eyebrow and all I could offer him in return was a shrug. I didn’t know _exactly_ what Zac’s problem was right then, but I figured it was safe to assume that somehow I was to blame. It made me feel sick to my stomach. Whatever I had with Seamus might not have to stay secret, but this thing with Zac definitely did, even though it seemed that with every passing day, little pieces of the truth were seeping out.

It had to end. That was all there was to it. I had to stop it before the entire truth came falling out and the fans _really_ had something to gossip about.


	30. Ruin

Before it even began, I knew the next day wasn’t going to be a pleasant one. We had a long drive ahead of us to get into Chicago early that morning for a radio promo thing. That meant two things. One, I didn’t get to share a hotel room for the night with Seamus and have the privacy that afforded us. Two, I wouldn’t get to see him very much the next day either.

I was not happy about either of these two things, but no amount of puppy dog eyes could convince Bex that I really didn’t need to be at the radio thing. Surely they could do it as a duo, right? For some unfathomable reason, she didn’t agree.

We had to be at the radio station far too early, which meant waking up even earlier. And _that_ meant that I didn’t even get to see Seamus in the morning. He was still happily snoring away in my bunk when Bex came around to wake us all up, and I just couldn’t bear to disturb him. It was a tiny little kindness in light of everything awful I’d done, really. He might not realize until he woke up later that I’d even done it for him, but it made me feel better.

Before heading to the radio station to set up, we had a quick breakfast at some diner down the street. I didn’t expect anyone to be particularly talkative that early, but it still seemed to be the quietest meal I could ever remember eating in my entire life. I noticed that Zac made a point of sitting at the opposite end of the table, as far away from me as he could possibly get. I really didn’t know what point he was trying to make, but whatever it was, everyone seemed to notice. Even Isaac shot me a raised eyebrow as he watched Zac sit down and pretend I didn’t exist.

It was awkward as hell, but if we could have just gone on pretending that the other didn’t exist, things would have been so much easier.

After breakfast for all of us and our crew, there was barely time to do anything else before we had to be at the radio station. Sometimes I could swear that time just speeds up when we have things to do, and there’s never enough time for everything we’re supposed to get done. There’s got to be some complicated scientific theory to explain it.

The good thing about being so busy, though, was that it made it easier for Zac and I to avoid each other without it seeming strange. Everyone else was too consumed with whatever they were supposed to be doing that they didn’t really pay attention to all this awkwardness between the two of us. They didn’t notice that we only spoke when we absolutely had to, and even then, most of our words for each other were filtered through Isaac first. I’m sure _he_ picked up something weird, but like Shay, he didn’t even know where to begin to explain what he was seeing. Besides, it wasn’t like Ike wasn’t used to me and Zac being strange – though, perhaps not _this_ strange.

At the risk of sounding bitter, these radio things are really all the same and more often than not, totally boring. Few of the DJs have kept up with our career, so we’re forced to spend the majority of the interview catching them up on things that truly aren’t important before spending the tiniest amount of time possible actually talking about the music we’re there to promote. It gets very, very tedious, but I always try my best to answer their questions and be as charming as I possibly can.

This particular interview proved itself to be no different from the rest. At least we actually had room to set up some semblance of an acoustic performance. That was the one high point of it all; it meant we could put on a good show for them and I had plenty of things to distract myself with when the interview got boring. I’m sure randomly playing with my shakers was annoying, but no one besides Zac glared at me for it, and Zac seemed to be glaring at me for everything I did, so I didn’t really put much stock in his opinion.

“Now, which of you is married?” The DJ’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Just me,” Isaac answered. “Married, and I have two kids. The other two are, uh, still on the market, though.”

Before I could think better of it, I cleared my throat and spoke. “Actually, I’ve been seeing someone.”

Suddenly, every eye in the room was on me. I didn’t realize I was dropping such a bombshell, but it certainly seemed that way. Everyone in our band and crew knew about me and Seamus. Did they not expect me to admit it? I didn’t like the implications of that. Even worse than that was the way Zac was staring at me. I couldn’t place all of the emotions in his eyes, but I could definitely make out a lot of anger. I had to look away quickly, so I turned back to the DJ who I was pretty sure had asked something that didn’t entirely register with me.

“Yeah, it’s umm… sort of a new relationship, so I don’t want to say a lot about it, but… well, we’re really happy.”

I could have been far more eloquent, I’m sure, if I’d had more time to think about what I wanted to say. It was too late to go back and undo it, though. For a spur of the moment decision, I thought I’d played it off pretty well. So why did it feel so bad? I could feel Zac’s eyes boring into me for the rest of the interview and even though the performance. He beat his drum like he was in a fist fight with it, and I couldn’t help assuming he wished the drum was my face.

I was beginning to think that I really just wasn’t allowed to be in a relationship. Every time I tried, I fucked it up and everyone ended up hating me – even people who weren’t actually _part_ of the relationship. I just ruined everything for everyone.

The actual performance part of the appearance went by quickly. We only played the new single and a few other random tracks from the album; to my surprise, no one insisted that we _had_ to play Mmmbop. Aside from Zac staring and beating the hell out of his drum, we all made it through the little acoustic set unscathed. That was becoming more and more rare these days, so I had to breathe a sigh of relief after we finished the last song.

That relief, of course, was short lived.

I had only just made my way to the little table of refreshments the radio station had provided for us when I felt a presence behind me. It seemed to radiate anger, so I knew it had to be Zac. Sure enough, I turned around and found myself face to face with my little brother’s glare.

“Hey, Zac,” I said, attempting to be friendly, even though I knew it was pointless.

He grunted something that might have been _hello_ or possibly _fuck you_ and grabbed a bagel from the table. Since it seemed obvious that a conversation wasn’t going to happen, I turned my attention to pouring myself a coffee.

“You know what I liked best about your little announcement?” Zac asked.

I turned slowly to face him, raising an eyebrow.

“The part where you totally ignored what the DJ said about the lucky lady.”

Had he really said that? If he had, I didn’t hear it at all. I just stared at Zac, certain that he had more to say. Surely he wasn’t finished yet.

“Did you tell Shay you were going to tell the world about him?”

“I didn’t,” I replied. “I mean, I didn’t tell him, no. But I didn’t exactly tell the world about him either, did I?”

“Why not? Are you ashamed of him?”

I blinked. Where the hell had that question come from? I cleared my throat. “No, of course not.”

“I guess you wouldn’t be ashamed of _him_ , would you?”

It was cryptic, like nearly everything Zac said these days, but I had a feeling I knew what he was referring to. I just didn’t know how to reply. Of course I was ashamed of what we kept doing. How fucked up would I have to be to _not_ feel awful for sleeping with my brother? It didn’t seem to change anything, though; no matter how bad I felt, it kept happening. But not anymore. I couldn’t handle what it was doing to him and to us.

“I guess not,” I finally replied.

Zac stared at me for a moment, like he was searching for some other answer or explanation, but I didn’t have one for him. I knew I should say something, though.

“Look, Zac,” I said. “I think you need to just accept that I’m with him, okay? That’s how it’s going to be. Whatever’s happening here… it needs to stop.”

Zac’s eyes narrowed. “Right. It should have never happened in the first place. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well,” Zac said, stepping in closer to me. I backed up instinctively, fearing he was going to hit me. Instead, he just stared me down and spat, “then you ought to remember that you’re the one who started it.”

Did he think I didn’t know that? Every time I hated him for everything we had done, I hated myself even more because I knew I really had started it. A stupid drunken mistake that I had all but forgotten about had eaten away at Zac for years until, finally, it turned him into this person staring at me, this person I didn’t recognize at all. I wanted my brother back, but I knew I was the reason he was gone.

“Are you guys alright?”

It was Isaac. My knight in shining armor, even if he didn’t quite realize it. There was a smile plastered on his face that suggested he had no clue of the depth of the argument he’d just interrupted.

“Yeah,” I replied, taking another step back from Zac. “We’re fine.”

“Right,” Zac replied through gritted teeth. “Just peachy.”

Isaac stared back and forth between the two of us, obviously trying to judge how truthful we were being. After a moment, he shrugged and walked away. Either he decided that we were going to fight whether he intervened or not, or he decided that he just didn’t _care_. Whichever it was, it was fine by me. The last thing we needed was Isaac sticking his nose into the mess we’d created.

No. The mess _I’d_ created.

I turned back to Zac and sighed. “Look, I’m really sorry that… all of this has happened. And I really think it would just be best if we stopped it all.”

“Yeah, well, you should have thought of that before,” Zac replied.

“I know, but we can still –”

“No,” he cut me off. “I really don’t think we can. You don’t get it.”

“I guess I don’t, but you haven’t really tried to help me understand.”

Zac’s eyes narrowed as he stared at me. He opened his mouth to speak again, then closed it and shook his head. “Just forget it, Tay. Just fucking forget it.”

If only he knew how much I wished I could, how much I wished we could both forget everything that had happened between us. It was too late, though. Once again, I had ruined everything and everyone, and there was no way to fix any of it.


	31. End

For reasons none of us can really explain, Chicago always seems to be one of the best shows of the entire tour. That’s why we nearly always schedule back to back shows there, and this tour was no exception. It was, however, _not_ one of the best shows of the tour.

Between the radio thing, the walk and soundcheck, I barely got to see Shay at all before the show. That put me in a bad mood that I’m pretty sure affected the entire show, and of course, Zac was still in the same bad mood he’d been in at the radio station. I knew I was to blame for it, but I didn’t know how to fix it – other than, of course, leaving Seamus for him. But that wasn’t really an option, was it? How could it be?

It was a struggle to keep up with Zac during the show; he set a breakneck pace that betrayed how angry he was and how quickly he wanted the show to end so he could get away from me. There was no doubt that everyone, including the audience most likely, could tell something was wrong. I noticed Will speaking to Zac several times, oblivious to the problem, but still trying to slow him down. It only barely helped; as soon as I caught Zac’s eye again, he resumed beating his drums like he was trying to murder them.

A wave of relief washed over me as we finished the last song of the encore. It was a short setlist that night, but it still had seemed to drag on forever. As soon as the last notes faded out, I was certain my agony was over. All I had left to do was take a bow and then I could be with Seamus for the rest of the night. Before the bow, though, was our traditional stage jump. Since I was actually in a pretty good mood, I leaped onto my piano bench with enthusiasm, planning to really make this jump count. Those few seconds that I hung in the air were perfect.

The crash landing… not so much.

I’m not exactly a graceful person, so I’ve had my share of stupid falls during concerts over the years. It doesn’t make them any less terrifying, though; that moment when you realize something has gone wrong – in this case, my foot getting wrapped around the piano bench – takes all your breath away. As soon as I realized what was happening, I reached my arm out to Zac in the hopes of latching onto him and breaking my fall a little bit.

Zac was having none of that. He yanked his arm away, landing much more gracefully a few feet outside of my grasp, while I crumpled into a heap on the stage.

For a moment, I was certain I had broken something… or everything. Once I remembered how to breath again, I decided that while I was definitely in pain, everything seemed to move as it was supposed to. It wasn’t Zac, but Isaac, who finally offered me a hand and helped pull me back to my stupid, clumsy feet. Zac, meanwhile, was completely oblivious, busy handing out his drumsticks to girls in the front row.

I was so angry with Zac that I pushed Isaac between us so that I didn’t have to hold Zac’s hand as we took our bow. It seemed pretty obvious that he didn’t want to touch me, anyway. I rushed from the stage as quickly as I could, not even sparing a single glance in his direction. Shay was waiting by the side of the stage, and he wrapped a cautious arm around me.

“That was a rough landing,” he said, rubbing my back. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I just want to get you back to the hotel and relax.”

Shay stiffened a little. “Actually, I think a bunch of us are going out to drink.”

“Oh,” I replied, feeling a rush of anger and jealousy flare up inside me. “Fine. You can go on. I’ll just get some sleep. That’ll be better for me.”

“Are you sure? I’ll stay if you want me to.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine.”

It was anything but fine, but I hurt too much to fight with him. I couldn’t take another fight in one day. All I really wanted was to go to sleep and wake up not feeling like I’d gone skydiving with a parachute.

****

Quickly, I got my things from the green room and the bus and called a cab, not wanting to waste another moment in the venue. If I did, I knew I would end up running into Zac and punching him in the face. He was still nursing that one black eye, so I figured he really didn’t need another, and I didn’t need the one I would get in retaliation if I hit him. It was just better to put some distance between us.

I already had my hotel key card, so I found my room and headed straight for the shower. A nice, hot shower would do me some good, I thought. I had tried plenty of times to scrub away my sins, and I knew that didn’t work, but the hot water still seemed to scald some of the anger out of my body.

After my shower, I pulled on a pair of boxers and collapsed onto the bed. I didn’t care that it was still pretty early by tour standards; I really did just want to sleep. Before my shower, I’d popped a few aspirins that the hotel saw fit to provide in the hopes of staving off some of the aches and pains of my fall and I lay back on the bed, waiting for them to take effect so that I could rest.

I couldn’t be that lucky, of course. Instead, a knock came at the door just as I felt myself relaxing and almost drifting off.

I was pretty sure Shay had his own key card, so I had no clue who could possibly be looking for me. They were insistent, though. Whoever it was, they continued knocking the entire time it took me to walk from my bed to the door. I flipped the lock back and opened the door, then let out a groan as I found myself face to face with Zac.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“To apologize.”

“Yeah, right,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I’m serious, Tay,” Zac said. “I didn’t realize you were actually falling. And I just… well, you grabbed me, and I freaked out.”

“Okay,” I replied, beginning to push the door together. “You apologized. Goodnight.”

Zac shoved his way into the room before I could completely the slam the door in his face. He grabbed my arm.

“Tay. I’m serious. I’m sorry about earlier… and the fight at the radio station.”

“Yeah, and I accepted your apology. What more do you want from me, Zac?”

He sighed and took a step closer to me, tightening his grip on my arm. “I don’t know…”

I had a feeling I knew exactly what he wanted from me. As usual, I didn’t think I had it in me to refuse him. I inched a little bit closer to Zac and brushed my hand down his arm.

“You sure you don’t know what else you want from me?”

“I thought we decided it shouldn’t happen again.”

Now he was turning _me_ down? That was new. Why had he come to me, though, if he didn’t want it?

“We said that, yeah,” I replied, bringing my hand to rest on his waist. “Did you think that would really stop us, though?”

Zac shook his head. Any other thoughts I might have had about how much of a mistake we were making vanished as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. Although we had barely kissed during any of these little… encounters… the feeling of his lips seemed to have already burned itself into my memory so that the moment I felt it again, I relaxed. My body went limp in his arms, making it easy for him to ease me back until my legs bumped into the bed and I fell onto it.

“Sorry,” Zac mumbled, but he didn’t really seem that sorry. A second later, his lips were on mine again, pushing for an even deeper kiss, as his hands worked their way down my sides to the waistband of my boxers.

I didn’t really mind being so much more naked than Zac, but as soon as his hand touched my bare ass, I realized just how mismatched we were. I made quick work of his shirt, and he took the hint and wiggled out of his jeans and underwear without my help. He looked nothing like Seamus or any of the sort of guys I usually went for, but I had to admit, he looked good. He wasn’t really muscular, except for those strong arms, but that was enough. I was pretty sure I could have gotten off just on watching the way the muscles in his arm flexed as he jerked me off.

I wasn’t content with just that, though. I wanted more from Zac. I wanted to feel everything I possibly could.

“Zac,” I breathed out, nudging his arm away from me. “In the pocket of my duffel bag.”

He blinked, then nodded, as he realized what I was telling him. I couldn’t resist the urge to stare at his ass in the air as he bent down to retrieve the tube of lube I’d stashed in my duffel bag earlier that day when I’d had slightly different plans for the night.

A moment later, he returned to the bed and handed the lube to me. I shook my head and passed the bottle back to him. Zac tilted his head to the side in confusion.

I pulled him back on top of me and and chuckled softly. “The lube isn’t for you, Zac.”

Realization washed over him and he nodded. He sat back and nudged my legs apart, then ducked between them to press a few surprisingly gentle kisses to my thigh. He only raised up for a moment to slick his fingers with lube before diving back down, his lips closing around my cock at the same time that he slid a finger into me.

I let out a loud moan. It didn’t matter that I’d been with Shay fairly recently, that first moment, feeling myself being stretched, is always the best. I knew it was only going to get better, too. I didn’t know if Zac had been on this end of the equation before, but I was practically drooling just imagining how good his cock would feel inside of me. The thought of it made me moan again, the sound coinciding perfectly with the moment Zac added a second finger.

He didn’t give me much more time to get accustomed to his fingers before pulling them out. That was fine by me, though. I could take it, and I didn’t really care if it hurt. If it did, I was sure that I deserved it. I shivered as I watched Zac stroke himself with his lube-coated hand, and my body was practically humming with anticipation as he leaned in and lined himself up.

“Zac, please…” I moaned out, sounding more desperate that even I expected.

That was all it took. He grasped my hips and thrust into me all at once. I winced a little at the feeling of it, stretched absolutely to my breaking point by his huge cock, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

For a moment, Zac just stayed there, his arms shaking on either side of my head, body not moving. Finally, when I could barely take it anymore, he pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in. After a few more tentative thrusts, he found a rhythm that had us moaning in sync.

As much as I loved the way he sounded, I couldn’t resist pulling him down for a kiss. He actually _whimpered_ when our lips touched, and it only fueled my lust even more. I tangled my hands deep in his hair as we kissed, needing to feel him as close to me as I possibly could.

Zac seemed to grow bolder as the moments passed, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper each time, and pushing even more harried gasps and sighs from my lips. It did hurt, but I wasn’t going to tell him. I was absolutely certain that I deserved it. And even though it _did_ hurt, it felt absolutely incredible, too.

I suppose we were both too wrapped up in each other to hear the door unlock and open, because neither of us paused at all. It was only when the sound of Shay’s voice hit Zac’s ears that he froze.

“Holy shit.”


	32. Out

Time stopped, and I was certain that my heart did, too. Zac was shaking so hard that I feared he was just going to collapse on top of me. I couldn’t move. When the door slammed behind Seamus, time started again and Zac mustered up the strength to roll off of me and lunge for his underwear. I could only lay there, staring up at Seamus, who was shaking even harder than Zac had been.

“I’m not even going to ask if that wasn’t what it looked like,” Shay said, his voice surprisingly calm. “Obviously it was.”

“Shay…” I began, even though I had no clue what I could possibly say to him.

“Save it, Taylor. You can’t explain this. You _can’t_.”

I looked to Zac, even though I didn’t think he could be of any assistance. His head was down as he continued putting his clothes on. Yeah, he was definitely going to be useless. I decided to try again, scrambling off the bed and walking over to Seamus, not even caring that I was still naked and sweaty.

“Shay… please…”

He backed away from me, pulling his arm away from my grasp. Shaking his head, he said, “No, Taylor. Just… stop.”

I couldn’t stop. “I’m so sorry… I never meant to…”

“To what?” He snapped. “Sleep with your brother? My god…”

I could see him actually gagging as he said it, and seconds later, he shoved me aside and rushed to the bathroom. I didn’t have to guess why he did that; the sounds of him retching into the toilet hit my ears seconds later and made me feel ill, too. Shay might have been drinking, but I had a feeling his sudden sickness was due solely to what he had seen me and Zac doing.

 _Zac_.

I turned around and saw that he was completely dressed, but rocking back on his heels like he didn’t want to leave.

“Tay… I’m sorry…”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. Do you even realize how much of a fucking mess this is?”

“M-maybe it’ll be okay…” he stuttered out, his bottom lip quivering.

“Are you kidding?” I snapped. “Someone just saw us _fucking_ , Zac. This could ruin everything. Just get out of here, and pray that he doesn’t tell anyone.”

“Tay…”

“I said get out.”

Zac looked like he was going to say something else, but then he shook his head. He shoved passed me and walked out the door with only the tiniest glance back at me before the door closed. A little part of me wanted to chase after him, but I knew it wouldn’t solve anything. I had to try to fix things with Shay, if that was even possible. The memory of his face when he saw us hit me again, and I had to lean against the door to keep from collapsing.

I knew I was good at ruining things, but this was worse than I could have imagined.

After a moment, my legs decided to work again and I made my way back to the bed. I pulled my boxers back on and surveyed the mess Zac and I had made. It would have been a fitting sort of punishment for myself to just lay in it, but I couldn’t do it. I ripped up the sheets and tossed them across the room. It wasn’t very satisfying, but for a brief moment that act of aggression made me feel better.

That was, until I saw Seamus leaning against the bathroom door, looking like he might be sick again.

“Shay..”

“Fucking save it,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to hear some stupid lie you’re going to call an explanation.”

“I can’t say anything for myself?” I asked, knowing full well that there was nothing I could say that could possibly make what Seamus saw okay.

He shook his head. “Well, just… for my own morbid curiosity, can you tell me how long this has been going on?”

“It, umm… just a few weeks.” I knew that was partially a lie, but I didn’t feel like explaining to him how it had really started when we were teenagers. Telling him that wouldn’t make things any better.

Seamus nodded. “So… after we started dating?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“How many times?”

I blinked.

“I don’t even know why I’m asking. I’m still a little drunk and I guess I just want to hate you more, so… how many times?”

I sighed. “Umm… three.”

Again, it was almost a lie. We _had_ only had sex three times. I was just omitting the first kiss and the blow job. He didn’t need to know about those, too, did he? It was all over regardless of the exact details.

That seemed to be Shay’s last question for me, at least for the time being. He walked back into the room and began to strip off his clothes. I had to look away; I could only imagine how awful he would think I was if he caught me checking him out after everything that had happened. I climbed into the bed while he was occupied, then rolled over and tried to keep my eyes on his face.

“I’m not sleeping with you tonight,” he said. “And not ever again, I’d imagine. It’s just too much trouble to get another room tonight. That’s the only reason I’m staying here. Do you understand that?”

“Yeah, I understand,” I replied.

He switched off the light and climbed into the other bed, rolling over so that he was facing away from me.

So this was it, I supposed. This was how it ended. All things considered, it could have been a lot worse, but I had a feeling it was the alcohol that subdued him. When he was sober and the full weight of it hit him, I had no doubt it would be worse.

As I rolled over and tried to sleep, I could only wish that somehow, I wouldn’t wake up in the morning.

****

“Get up.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. Between flipping on the overhead light and opening the blinds, Shay had let enough light into the room that I didn’t think I would be able to sleep again for days. I rolled over the other side of my bed, away from him, and headed to the bathroom. I had absolutely no desire to speak to him, even though I knew I would have to eventually. Still, there was nothing wrong with prolonging the inevitable.

Shay must have agreed with me, because he didn’t interrupt at all as I took my time showering, shaving and brushing my teeth. I only sped up at all when I walked back into the room to get dressed. For the first time since we’d started sharing a hotel room, I felt incredibly awkward about being naked in front of him. In the past, I had at least felt confident that he couldn’t see my sins even when I wore nothing at all, but now I imagined that if he looked at me, it would be all he could see. I shimmied into a pair of jeans and pulled on the first shirt that I found, not even caring if they matched or were clean, and then walked back into the bathroom for a dry towel I could use on my hair.

I wouldn’t have even noticed that Shay had followed me if I hadn’t seen his reflection in the mirror.

“I can dry my hair in the room if you need to shower…” I offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll get a shower later, before the show.”

“Oh… okay.”

“You know, I was really hoping to wake up and realize that everything that happened last night had just been a bad dream. Or just some drunken hallucination or something.”

“Sorry,” I replied, unsure how else to reply.

Shay nodded. “I’m sure you are, but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

“That’s just it, Taylor,” he said. “There’s nothing you can say that will fix this. I mean, god… you _do_ get how fucked up this is, don’t you?”

I spun around to face him, not just his reflection. “I’m not _that_ stupid.”

He sighed and took a few hesitant steps toward me. “I know you’re not. I just don’t understand how you could…”

“Sleep with my own brother?” I offered and watched him cringe. “Honestly, I don’t know. It just… happened. And god, I knew it was wrong, but he was… fucked up and hurting, and it was really my fault, and I just… obviously fucking him wasn’t going to fix it, but…”

“But it was the only thing you could do? Right, makes sense,” he replied, giving me a look that said it really didn’t.

I threw my hands up in the air. “I really don’t know what else to say. That’s all I’ve got by way of an explanation. And I know you said you didn’t want an explanation anyway.”

“No, I really didn’t. None will really suffice.”

“I really wanted to be good to you,” I admitted. “For once, I thought I could… but I guess not.”

“I guess not,” he replied softly.

There was a question nagging at my mind, and I hated to ask him, but I had to know. “You’re not… you’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“You think anyone would believe me?” He countered, chuckling as he said it. I didn’t like the sound of that laugh, but I trusted that he wouldn’t tell anyone.

I didn’t know why he was still being so comparatively good to me. God knows I didn’t deserve it.

“Thanks,” I said, my hand instinctively reaching out for his arm. I didn’t even realize I had done it; the need to be close to him was still too strong.

Shay pulled away from me, his eyes clouding over. “Please… don’t. Don’t touch me.”

That was the end of the conversation. We finished dressing and packing up our things in complete silence. However good he might have been, whatever reasonableness he could muster up, there was still a huge wedge between us that nothing could budge. It was still over, no matter what. Neither of us really needed to vocalize that. What relationship could survive finding out the person you were with had such a horrible secret?

None possibly could.

Shay left the room before me, mumbling something about turning in his key and getting a coffee before we had to leave. I only nodded in reply, figuring that he didn’t want to hear any more of my voice, anyway. After he was gone, I took one last look around the room, then slung my bags over my shoulder and walked out.

I made it only a few steps down the hallway before I collided with Zac who was just walking out of his room.

“Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah. It’s fine.” I pushed past him and continued on toward the elevator.

“Tay,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me back. “Can we talk for a minute?”

“I suppose we can, but I’d prefer that we don’t. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

He sighed. “I just… I just wanted to apologize, okay? It was stupid to do that in your room where he could walk in.”

“No, it was stupid to do it, period, Zac.”

“I know…” he sighed. “I ruined everything between you guys, didn’t I?”

I blinked, then shook my head. “No. We both did. You and me both.”

Zac nodded. “Yeah… well, I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “Hey, you were the one who kept reminding me that I was going to fuck it up and cheat on him or something.”

“Yeah, and I made damn sure that it happened, didn’t I?”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” I replied, wondering where I’d suddenly developed so much sympathy for Zac, when he’d made the last few weeks miserable. “But if you did it on purpose, just to make it some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy… then that’s pretty fucked up.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “But what _isn’t_ fucked up about all of this?”

“I guess you’re right. But it’s all over now, isn’t it?”

Zac blinked. “Yeah… I guess it is.”

Even as I walked away from him, I had a feeling that it wasn’t really over. Somehow, I just didn’t think it could be, no matter how much I wanted it to be and how much it needed to be. We had opened up some wounds that we just couldn’t close – at least not on our own.


	33. Truth

Shay didn’t speak to me again for the rest of that day and most of the next. He spent most of his time, when he wasn’t busy rehearsing or performing, sitting alone and scribbling into a notebook. I knew the look on his face all too well; I was a musician, too, after all. He was writing a new song, and I had no doubt that it was about me. I figured I deserved that. After what I’d done, I deserved a million songs written about how awful I was. I was reasonably certain that at least a few albums’ worth already had been written about me by others, so why not let Seamus have his turn, too?

I wondered how we were going to tell everyone that we were over, but I was pretty sure that they would all figure it out on their own. Shay made a pretty big show of removing the various clothes and things of his that had collected in my bunk, and returning everything of mine that had found its way to his. It felt like everyone on the bus had gathered to watch the show.

Isaac glanced my way across the bus’s small booth and raised an eyebrow. “Something you wanna tell me?”

“No, in fact, there’s not,” I replied, making a show of pulling my book up higher to shield my eyes from his judgmental stare. “I have absolutely nothing that I _want_ to tell you.”

“How many weeks has it been? Two, three? That’s pretty fast, even for you.”

“Thank you for that little recap.” I rolled my eyes and stood up, hoping there were still a few beers on the bus. I didn’t care that it was early in the morning and we were on the road. I needed a drink. Unfortunately, all I could find were sodas. Just my luck. I popped the top on a Dr. Pepper then glanced back at Ike. “Are we done here, or would you like to remind me again just how awful of a person I am?”

He blinked, then shook his head. “No, I guess we’re done.”

I plopped back down in the booth, because I really didn’t have anywhere else to go and hide from him, and sighed. I already had a feeling that it was going to be an awful day, and it had barely begun. If I lived through the concert that night, I was pretty sure it would be a miracle.

****

If Seamus was avoiding me, then I was doing the same to Zac. I didn’t know what else to say to him. Like my apologies to Shay, his apologies to me just fell flat. I knew it was more my fault than his, anyway, so it just didn’t matter that he was sorry. What could it possibly fix to keep repeating those two words over and over? Not a damn thing.

After soundcheck, I hid in the shadows backstage, avoiding everyone. I hated to brood and pout before a concert, because it never boded well for my performance, but that night, I just couldn’t help it. I would have been perfectly content not to see another person before I absolutely had to—that is, before our show began. Even then, I hoped to stay in my own little world as much as possible. I wanted to absolutely lose myself in the music. It was the only thing I had left, my only solace at all for the rest of the tour.

Shay passed by my little hidden corner on his way to take his spot on stage, and although he glanced my way, he didn’t say a word. It was so dark that I couldn’t really tell if he even saw me at all. If he did, his silence spoken volumes. I wondered if he would ever speak to me again for the rest of the tour. If he did, I was sure it was more than I deserved from him. It wouldn’t have even mattered to me if he only yelled and hurled obscenities at me. Any words at all from Seamus would have been fantastic. Anything at all would have been far better than his silent treatment.

I couldn’t stop myself from hanging around to watch him perform. Even though we were over, I was still a moth to his flame. I found a new but still secluded spot with a better view of the stage, prepared to spend the next hour absolutely torturing myself with the sights and sounds of Seamus Lane. I could only watch him, not touch. I could hear his voice and know that it would probably never be directed at me again. It was torture, for sure, but I deserved it.

“Hey,” a voice said out of the darkness and I jumped. I blinked until my eyes adjusted and I could make out the oh-so-familiar form of my little brother.

“What do you want?” I nearly snapped, the anger in my voice surprising me, although Zac barely flinched.

“Haven’t seen you for a while,” Zac replied. “I’ve been looking for you, that’s all.”

“Why? Did you need something?”

He sighed. “No, I guess not. I just… I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

“We are so many things, Zac, but I don’t think okay is one of them.”

“Well, are _you_ okay?”

I stared at him. Did he really expect me to be okay right then, or _ever_ again?

“Okay, stupid question,” he said. “I just don’t know what else to say.”

“Neither do I,” I replied. “I’m not sure there’s much to be said about it all, really. We fucked up, Zac.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “We did.”

The song Shay had been playing faded out into silence, quickly followed by applause. I glanced back at the stage. He was fumbling around in his pocket for something, which he laid out on the stool next to him before turning back to the audience.

“This is a brand new one, but I thought I would try it out on you guys. How about that?”

The audience cheered, but my stomach turned. I knew without him saying anything more that the new song would be about me. I didn’t even realize that I was shaking until I felt Zac’s steady hand on my back. A part of me wanted to shake him off, but the rest of me didn’t have the will to start another fight. I took a deep breath and mustered up all my courage as Shay began to strum his guitar.

_Breaking your back to cover your tracks,_  
 _Did it for love or something like that,_  
 _I don’t know who to believe,_  
 _In so many words you try to explain,_  
 _How many times can the story get changed,_  
 _I don’t know who to believe._

_And what’s between us,  
Just won’t add up._

_Oooh, give me some believable doubt,_  
 _Why should I believe in you now,_  
 _From what I see, yeah,_  
 _You call yourself an innocent man,_  
 _Tell me ’bout the blood on your hands,_  
 _I wanna hear, oh, wanna hear the truth from you._

_The devil’s talking to me as you fall on your face,_  
 _Angel beside me saying I should be taking your place,_  
 _I don’t know who to believe,_  
 _There’s a criminal part to everyone’s heart,_  
 _Outside’s clean and the inside’s falling apart,_  
 _I don’t know who to believe._

_And what’s between us,  
Just won’t add up._

_Oooh, give me some believable doubt,_  
 _Why should I believe in you now,_  
 _From what I see, yeah,_  
 _You call yourself an innocent man,_  
 _Tell me ’bout the blood on your hands,_  
 _I wanna hear, oh, wanna hear the truth from you._

_Walk away, you’re free to go home,  
Walk away now._

I fell back against the wall, and Zac was there to help it hold me up, his arm snaking between me and the wall to land on my lower back. I still wanted to shrug him off, but I couldn’t. It took all of my energy just to keep standing. Every word Shay had sung held the truth. I was so, so guilty, and I should have known I wouldn’t have been able to hide it. Now he knew the truth and he saw me for what I really was.

For the first time, I saw me, too, and I didn’t like me at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics in this chapter come from "Believable Doubt" by Andy Davis.


	34. Stoned

My bunk was cold and lonely that night, and I slept horribly all the way to Royal Oak. Consequently, I woke up hating everyone and everything. None of that really changed once I had a few cups of coffee in me and was more aware of the world around me. I hated that sudden, coffee-induced realization of what my life had become. It was like a punch in the gut to see Seamus walk to the front of the bus, pour himself a cup, and walk away without a single word to me. Every single time I remembered that we were over and why, it was just a little more salt in the wound.

Seeing Zac had much the same effect, but he was harder to avoid than Seamus. If Shay didn’t want to see me, he had no reason to. He could go off and spend his day doing whatever he wanted, emerging only for his soundcheck and performance. But Zac… I had to spend the day working with him. Whether we wanted to or not, we had to put on happy faces and pretend that we liked each other all day long.

Never before, even other times that we had fought, had it been so hard to be in the same room as him. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be with your brother. Then again, lots of things between Zac and I weren’t exactly brotherly lately.

It was another stupidly hot day, so we all agreed that the walk would be a later one in the hopes of not scalding anyone’s feet off. That meant a short soundcheck, but I was fine with that. Our soundchecks were well known to be an unpleasant clash of personalities even when we were all in good moods. When I could barely stand to look at Zac, I couldn’t imagine it going very well.

The only bad thing about that plan was that it meant I had absolutely nothing to do all afternoon. Getting away from everyone else was a good thing, but it also left me alone with my thoughts. I spent the better part of the afternoon brooding into a cup of coffee in the first coffee house I found. I ordered it hot, not caring that I was already hot enough thanks to the weather. I really didn’t mind a little extra pain. The coffee offered me no solace, at least not emotionally, so after a few cups, I wandered aimlessly up and down the streets. It was boring and nothing at all in the city caught my interest, but I didn’t know what else to do.

When I could find no other way to occupy my time, I decided to head back to the venue. It was getting close to time for the walk, anyway, so I figured I wouldn’t have much time to just sit around with my thoughts before I had to put on a happy face and go to work.

There was a long line of fans by the venue, and as awful as it makes me sound, I just couldn’t handle talking to them right then. I darted around a corner out of their sight and scurried onto the bus. I feared that, since the fans were so near, everyone else would be hiding on the bus, too, but it was eerily quiet when I opened the door. At first, I didn’t see or hear anyone. I did, however, smell something.

Pot.

I sniffed the air a few times just to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. The scent was definitely too strong to be imaginary, though. And it was also too strong to just be lingering around from Zac’s usual post-show bowl. He didn’t smoke every night, but it was often enough that the stench seemed to just linger on our bus, mixing with the rest of the gross manly smells we generate so that I didn’t think anyone really noticed. This was a lot stronger, though, which could only mean one thing.

He was on the bus, smoking, right then.

Something about that made me really angry. I suppose because it was the middle of the day and it seemed to show a serious disregard for his job. He had only picked up the habit so heavily when we toured with Everybody Else. He and Carrick smoked every damn day, and Zac tried to explain that it helped with his anxiety or whatever, but I never totally bought it. As far as I knew, though, he only smoked to bring himself down after a show—not before.

I stomped to the back of the bus, certain that was the origin of the offending smell. Sure enough, there was an actual _cloud_ of smoke billowing out of the back lounge. In the middle of it all was Zac, a little blown glass pipe pressed to his lips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked.

Zac raised an eyebrow and casually blew out another puff of smoke before bothering to answer me. “The fuck does it _look_ like I’m doing?”

“Getting blown out of your mind right before the walk?” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Yeah, and?” He turned his head away from me then, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked on his stupid pipe.

“And it’s one thing for you to be out of your mind after the show, because your responsibilities for the day are done then. But this, Zac? This is bullshit. You can’t be around fans and playing a show like this.”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first damn time.”

“Oh, believe me,” I replied, “we all know how high you were when your little boyfriend toured with us.”

“My little boyfriend?” His head snapped back around to face me.

“Carrick? Wasn’t that what he was?”

Zac glared at me, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know a damn thing about Carrick, so you really ought to shut up.”

I knew he was right. I should have shut up. This was nothing more than a petty fight fueled by my anger at him for so stupidly getting stoned, and I was throwing any mean words at him that I could. But my anger at him went deeper than just that, and that’s what kept me throwing verbal daggers.

“So you mean you two _weren’t_ fucking? Could have fooled me.”

“What does it matter, Tay?” Zac asked, a tiny smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Are you jealous?”

I rolled my eyes. “You figured me out, Zac. I’m just so goddamn jealous that you’ve had sex with another man. Honestly, I don’t care what you do with Carrick. Or to Carrick.”

“So why are you still talking about it?”

He had a point there. Why was I talking about it? These were the most words I’d ever said about my suspicion that he and Carrick were closer than friends, and it was definitely the most I’d thought about it in the past three years. I didn’t like Zac’s insinuation that I was jealous, though.

“Does it bother you, Zac?” I asked. “What, did he break your little heart?”

Zac stood up, tossing his barely smoldering pipe to the side, and stepped closer me. “You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, and you really need to stop, before you make yourself sound like even more of a jealous little bitch.”

I backed away, putting my hands up as if to surrender. I was still angry, but I really didn’t feel like getting punched by my little brother. Again. “Look, forget I said anything about your man. You just need to chill out on this smoking in the middle of the day thing, alright?”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?”

I sighed. “It’s just… do you _really_ think it’s a good idea to be totally blown away for the rest of the evening?”

“I’m not,” he replied, pouting. “And anyway, why do you even care what I do?”

“Why would you think that I don’t care?”

Zac just shrugged. “Just figured it didn’t matter to you what I did. I mean, this stuff between us is over, right?”

“But… but that has nothing to do with me caring about your well being,” I replied, utterly confused by the words coming out of Zac’s mouth.

“Which I’m sure you _don’t_ ,” Zac said. “So can we just end this conversation now? You can stop pretending like you give a shit about me.”

He started to walk back to his couch, but I grabbed his arm. “But what does that have to do with.. with what we did?”

“You can’t even say it, can you? We _fucked_ , Taylor. Multiple times.”

“Keep your fucking voice down,” I hissed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zac replied, rolling his eyes. “I know, you’re ashamed of me. You’ve made that pretty clear.”

“Why the hell shouldn’t I be, Zac? Or have you forgotten that you’re my brother?”

“I’m not an idiot, Tay.”

“Getting stoned right before a walk? Yeah, I’d say you are an idiot.”

He stepped in closer to me, but shrugged off the grip I still had on his arm. “Is that what this is really about, Tay? You suddenly care about my drug habit?”

“What else would it be about?”

“You wanting to control me?” He offered with a shrug. “You thinking you actually _have_ any kind of control over me, when you’re the one who said it was over.”

“It had to be over, Zac,” I said. “And don’t talk about it like there _was_ an it. We fucked a couple times. That’s all. I’m not Carrick. I wasn’t your damn boyfriend.”

Zac laughed. “Why would I even want you to be my boyfriend, Taylor? Clearly all you can be counted on for is a piece of ass, not any sort of meaningful relationship.”

If I thought I was seeing red before, it was nothing compared to the rage that flooded my body at Zac’s words. I knew he was right, but it didn’t matter. I was so much angrier with myself than I was with him. The only problem was that I couldn’t beat _myself_ up. So I settled for the nearest target, letting my fist fly straight for Zac’s face.

I’m sure I would have lost the fight in a matter of seconds if it wasn’t for all the weed in Zac’s system. His reaction time was slowed by it and he seemed totally stunned by that first punch. It only took him a moment to come back to his senses, though, and come back swinging—literally. His first punch landed a little south of its target, or maybe my cheek _was_ its target. After that, it was just a flurry of punches and clawing hands, and I couldn’t tell you where either of us was aiming or where we actually hit.

The fight didn’t last long before I felt a pair of arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me back, followed by Isaac’s voice yelling, “What the fuck are you two doing?”

“The fuck does it look like?” Zac asked, rubbing his jaw. I was pretty sure I’d landed a decent hit there, right on his stupid, smart mouth.

“Beating this shit out of each other right before the walk,” Ike replied. “I swear, I don’t know what your problem has been this tour, but you need to sort this shit out _without_ killing each other.”

“Highly unlikely,” I mumbled, rubbing my own sore shoulder.

It hadn’t been that much of a fight, because god knows I’m a weakling and Zac was too stoned to be his usual self, but if I looked half as bad as I felt…

What the fuck _were_ we thinking, beating each other to a pulp? Hadn’t I just yelled at Zac for doing something stupid right before the walk? Now we were both in an awful state, and I didn’t know which of us to blame. I supposed we both shared in it. Wasn’t that just the way it went? Zac and I were just dragging each other down, trying to make the other person just as miserable as we were.

I sighed and cast a glance at Isaac. “Look, I’m… we’re sorry. Everything will be fine.”

It was a complete a total lie, and the look on his face said that he knew it, but he nodded his head anyway. “Alright. You’ve got like ten minutes to get your shit together.”

I glanced back at Zac, who was fiddling with his abandoned pipe. His head was down and I couldn’t judge what he was thinking or feeling at all. I supposed that even if I could see his face, I still wouldn’t know. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to risk sticking around long enough to get into another fight. With a sigh, I spun around and walked toward the front of the bus, still rubbing my sore shoulder. I could only hope that, as I had told Ike, this particular fight really was over.


	35. Asshole

The twenty-four hours or so after that fight seemed to be the quietest twenty-four hours of my life. It wasn’t really anything new, on that particular tour, for Zac to ignore me. Our only forms of communication seemed to be grunts and glares. But now Shay was ignoring me, too, which I wasn’t exactly surprised by either. On top of that, everyone else seemed to have heard about that little back of the bus brawl, so they all knew something was up. None of them really knew _what_ , except that Shay and I also recently broke up, but they could definitely feel all the bad vibes.

It all added up to me feeling like _everyone_ was ignoring or avoiding me.

I suppose it could have been worse. Ignoring was a lot better than constantly yelling and screaming at me. It was more than a little awkward to only talk to the rest of the band when we were working, but it wasn’t like we hadn’t had tense tours before. This definitely seemed to the be worst to date, though. And the worst part was knowing that it really was all my fault. I could try to blame Zac, but I knew this was all on me.

It wasn’t like I didn’t know, prior to this tour, that I was a horrible human being. But it seemed like everything that happened on this tour only served to prove just _how_ horrible I was.

The drive to Cleveland was pretty long, which meant hours and hours spent cooped up on the bus with everyone ignoring me. I tried to curl up in my bunk and nap, figuring that was the easiest way to avoid awkward stares. But my pillow still smelled like Shay. In the end, I found myself sitting on the couch with my face buried in a book. I could still sense the stares, but I had a good reason to ignore them–or, at least, _try_ to ignore them.

My book that day was fiction, not the usual non-fiction, self help sort of stuff I liked to read. I don’t know _why_ I read that stuff; clearly I didn’t ever learn a thing from it. My life was a mess. I wasn’t helping myself or anyone else. It was sort of like the placebo effect, I suppose. If I read that stuff and attempted to absorb some of it, even if I didn’t put it into action, I could delude myself into thinking I was a better person. But I wasn’t.

That day’s book was a cheesy fantasy novel I’d picked up at a truck stop. It wasn’t good by any definition of the word, but it was a distraction–a very, very welcome distraction–from reality.

I created a little cocoon for myself on the couch and I was perfectly content to stay there all day. I had my book to distract me, a bag of potato chips, a couple candy bars and a soda. The only thing I was missing was my iPod and a pair of earbuds so I could blast music into my brain and thus completely cut myself off from everyone else. Not that I really needed music to drown out any noise around me. The bus was far too quiet, and it was a really, really disconcerting change from the norm.

Of course, it couldn’t stay that quiet forever. I was just starting to get really comfortable in the silence when Isaac stomped his way toward the front of the bus and began loudly surveying our snack selection. By the fourth time he’d picked up the same bag of chips, I began to suspect he hadn’t really come up to the front for food. Ike had ulterior motives, and he was absolutely awful at hiding them.

“They’re still going to be honey barbecue the next time you pick them up,” I said.

I knew it was a bad idea to engage him in conversation on my own, but I also knew that if Ike wanted to talk, he was going to talk whether I was listening or not. Even if he was just talking _at_ me rather than _to_ me.

He glanced at me, then at the bag of chips, then back at me. With a shrug, he yanked them open and stuffed a few into his mouth. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Ike did just want a snack, and his coming to the front of the bus had nothing to do with me at all. There was a distinct possibility that I was just incredibly self centered and assumed that _everything_ had something to do with me.

“So,” he said, still chewing a mouthful of chips and dashing my hopes all at once. “What the hell is your problem lately?”

It might have been the first time in his life that Isaac had ever gotten to a point that quickly, and for some reason, I didn’t feel like celebrating that achievement.

“What do you mean?” I asked, hoping to play innocent and get away with it.

“I mean, you and Seamus have obviously broken up.”

“Points for observational skills.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks. And now you and Zac evidently aren’t talking, after that big fist fight, which neither of you has explained to anyone. The common denominator in both of these is you, Tay.”

“So what are you trying to say? That I’m just an asshole?”

“Well… I wasn’t going to say that, but since you said it yourself…” Isaac trailed off, smirking. He plopped down on the couch next to me, completely ignoring the fact that I was clearly trying to occupy the entire thing by myself. “Seriously, though. What’s going on?”

I eyed him carefully. “Why do you even care?”

“Because it’s clearly interfering with the rest of the tour, and that’s just bullshit. Whatever your little relationship problems are, you need to keep them to yourself.”

“Considering the fact that my _relationship_ is over, there shouldn’t be any more problems.” I pulled my book up to hide my face then, hoping Ike would take the hint and realize I was done talking to him.

Naturally, he did not. “Yeah, well, obviously there are problems. I mean, I don’t even remember the last time you and Zac fought like that.”

“So we were due for a fight,” I replied flatly.

“Yet neither of you will talk about _why_ you were so determined to maim each other.”

I slammed my book down. “Zac was being an asshole, okay? It’s as simple as that.”

“So you’re both assholes?”

“I guess so,” I replied, fighting the urge to laugh out loud. If only Ike knew just how awful both of us were. I had a feeling he would take that little revelation even worse than Seamus had, though.

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Isaac mumbled, and once again, I fought the urge to laugh. He ran his hand down his face, then stared me down. “Look, whatever the reason for that fight, you two need to kiss and makeup, because we’ve still got a week left before we can take a break from each other. It would be nice to not feel like I need to walk around my own bus in full body armor. As for Seamus… well, I’m going to go ahead and assume that was your fault. I guess it’s just lucky that he’ll be gone soon.”

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice barely finding its way past the lump forming in my throat. “I guess it is.”

Isaac seemed satisfied with that and turned his attention to his bag of chips, effectively ending the conversation. I was glad, because I didn’t know how much more of that torture I could tolerate. Until he pointed it out, I hadn’t even realized how close we were to finishing the first leg of the tour. It was a bittersweet feeling; I didn’t know if or when I would see Seamus again after he left the tour, but I supposed he would have been happy to _never_ see me again. There was little hope that the two of us would ever get back together, but there was absolutely no way it was going to happen in only a week.

On the flip side, when I considered the situation with Zac, a week seemed like forever. We had only a little more than a two week break before the second leg of the tour. Even two _months_ apart wouldn’t have been enough time for me to prepare for spending the rest of the fall on a bus with my little brother.

I just didn’t even know Zac anymore. But worse than that, I didn’t know myself.

Telling Isaac that Zac was an asshole… it wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but it didn’t come anywhere near the entire truth. He _was_ an asshole, but I knew it was my fault. What I’d done to him, what I _kept_ doing to him and with him, was absolutely unforgivable. But even saying that we were both assholes didn’t do justice to the situation.

It was a mess. And two weeks away from him wasn’t going to fix it.

I couldn’t even picture my life after the first leg of the tour. In such a short time, Seamus had become a part of it and I wanted to cling to him, even though I knew he wouldn’t let me. And Zac. I didn’t know what would happen with him. I could guess, though–more weed and more stupid, misguided sex. As much as I tried to refuse him, I had feared all along, from that very first moment, that I would never be able to.

It seemed I was right. In a lot of ways, I might not have recognized who I’d become, but the one thing I knew was that I was an asshole. Maybe it was just a self-fulfilling prophecy; I believed I was awful and so I was. Whatever the reason, it didn’t change the fact that I had done horrible things, and proven every initial impression Seamus had of me correct.

Yeah. I was definitely an asshole.


	36. Taking The Walk

This tour had caused me to develop a really bad attitude toward the walks. I hated feeling that way, but I couldn’t seem to change it. The walks were so much more my project than Isaac and Zac’s, and I think everyone knew that. On this tour, they were becoming a form of torture.

For the last few weeks, Seamus and I had been hesitant about showing our relationship to the fans. He had joined us on a lot of the walks, but it was always a delicate sort of dance. He never walked too closely to me, never lingered by my side for any length of time that might look suspicious, never shared any inside jokes or secret comments where the fans might hear. We were careful—painfully so.

But Seamus wasn’t the only problem. There was also Zac.

Few fans would see anything strange about Zac clinging to me during the walks. He and I were always close like that, even when, apparently, we didn’t really know each other at all. During this tour in particular, he had seemed to cling to me more than usual. I had accused him of doing it on purpose to get under my skin. I didn’t know if that was true, but it seemed to fit with his general attitude. Whatever the reason, though, it stopped after our fight. He didn’t come near me at all, instead choosing to surround himself by a crowd of fans so deep that I could barely even see him amongst them.

And Seamus, needless to say, stopped walking with us entirely.

I still found myself stupidly scanning the crowd, trying to find him, but he wasn’t there. I _knew_ he wasn’t there, but I couldn’t stop looking for him. It was practically an instinct, the need to be near him so much a part of me that it didn’t matter how many times I told myself he just wasn’t there.

The walk in Cleveland was later in the evening, as we’d taken to scheduling them. That gave Shay the excuse of a scheduling conflict; the walk ran into his soundcheck so conveniently that he didn’t even need to mention that he was actually avoiding me. I knew the truth, though. Shay didn’t want to be anywhere near me.

I couldn’t really blame him. If I’d had the option, _I_ wouldn’t have been anywhere near me.

I tried to distract myself from my stupid thoughts by talking to the crowd of girls gathered around me, but I could barely focus on what they were saying. It was the usual stuff, really. Every girl who chatted with me during the walk inevitably wanted to discuss the charity thing or how long she’d been a fan. It was all pretty predictable.

“That’s a really nasty looking bruise,” one girl said. “Where’d you get it?”

Except for that girl, apparently.

I glanced down at her and tried to smile. “Oh, I ran into a door.”

A complete and total lie, but she bought it. That lie sent the entire group of them into a fit of giggles, in fact. I guess my clumsiness—even when it wasn’t remotely the truth—was just hilarious. As long as it kept them from realizing the truth, I didn’t care how much they laughed at me.

“Where’s whats-his-name… the opening act guy?” Another girl asked. It seemed there was no escape from the awkward questions that day.

“Oh, Seamus?” A third girl cut in. “I was at the last show, and he was so good!”

“He’s a really talented guy,” I replied, feeling like I had to practically shove my hand down my throat and rip the words out. I meant them, but Shay was the second to last thing I wanted to talk about right then—Zac being the first.

“Doesn’t he usually take the walk, too?” The third girl asked.

I forced myself to nod. “Yeah, umm, he usually tries to. Sometimes the walks are a little later and he has to do soundcheck instead.”

Thank god he had an actual excuse. I certainly couldn’t tell these girls the truth about him. Had we still been together, it would have been different. I was just getting comfortable with the idea of making the relationship public; I doubted anyone would have been surprised by it, so what was the point of hiding? But now that it was over, I really didn’t feel like discussing it with the fans.

“Oh,” one of the girls replied, sounding disappointed. “Well, that’s a shame. He’s so cute… wish I could have met him.”

I could feel my face heating up, and I had to fight the urge to agree with them about how cute he was. How was it possible for a handful of fans to make me this nervous? I couldn’t remember the last time I lost the ability to speak in front of a group of them. Surely it hadn’t happened since I was fourteen or fifteen, when I was just realizing the power I seemed to have over all of them. I didn’t understand it then, but it didn’t take long for me to learn to enjoy it—and use it to my advantage.

Right then, though, I wanted nothing more than to run from it.

Unfortunately, I still had a walk to finish, and I didn’t think anyone would appreciate it if I turned it into a sprint. I mumbled something about how Seamus liked to come out and sign autographs after the shows and tried to ignore how it made all of their faces light up. I knew that look of infatuation; it would have been my own expression during a conversation about Shay until just a few days ago. Now, though, I felt more like hurling all over the girl who asked about him.

If any of those girls noticed my nausea, none of them felt the need to comment on it or _stop_ commenting on Shay. In fact, if I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed they were all just trying to bother me.

“What’s he like?” Another girl asked. “Is he fun to tour with?”

“Umm,” I squeaked out. “Shay’s… Seamus is, umm, yeah. He’s a cool guy. Very… chill. He’s nice to have around.”

I hadn’t really said anything at all, and I was pretty sure the girls noticed that. They certainly seemed to notice the little nickname I’d slipped up and used.

“Is he single?” One of them asked, soliciting giggles from the rest. Something in her sly smirk said that she had ulterior motives for asking, and I didn’t like that at all.

“You know, that’s really not any of my business,” I replied. It wasn’t a lie; I was sure that Shay didn’t want me to have anything to do with his love life anymore. I gave the girl who asked the question a stare that I hoped implied _and it’s none of yours either_.

My reply must have been even more harsh than I intended, because the girls were all just staring at me, eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Great. On top of everything else I’d done wrong, I’d managed to be mean to a bunch of fans, too. I mumbled something about the walk being almost over, which was true, and sped up so that I could both reach the front of the crowd and get away from those girls before I said anything worse to them.

It wasn’t the first time I’d snapped at fans, and I usually hated myself for it afterward. Sometimes it was just far too easy to let their demands and sense of entitlement anger me, and I said things I knew I shouldn’t. Zac was even worse than me, though. He never seemed to care at all, or even notice, if he let his sarcasm go a bit too far. As angry as I was with him, it strange to find myself suddenly envious of him and wishing to be more like my stupid little brother.

I rushed through the rest of the walk and gave the quickest version of my end of walk speech possible. I could feel Isaac’s questioning stare on me the entire time, no doubt wondering why I was in such a hurry. Zac’s stare was on me, too, but I couldn’t place the emotions in it. His eyes were blocked by the camera he kept trained on me. I never really understood why he took so many pictures during the walks; we didn’t really use them for anything, at least not in the quantity that he took them, and even if we did, four billion pictures of me bellowing into a megaphone were pretty boring. I would never ask him to stop, but on that particular day, it really annoyed me. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep talking and not rip the camera from his hands and throw it at the side of the building.

There was a distinct chance that I was misdirecting my anger, but that was a line of thought I didn’t feel like exploring.

Once I was finished with my succinct little speech, I stuffed my feet back into my shoes and hurried off toward the bus. I had absolutely no desire to stick around and say more stupid things to the fans. What I really wanted was to find Shay and let him comfort me, but I knew that was no longer an option. The realization that I had no one on this tour who I could talk to, no one who could provide me any comfort when I was upset, hit me like a punch to the gut. I had completely alienated myself from everyone, even the brother I had long considered my best friend.

“Tay!” he called out. Of course it had to be him—the very brother who was at the center of all my problems.

I didn’t take my hand off the bus’ door as I spun around to face Zac. He was closer than I realized and my body tensed instinctively, even though running from him wasn’t a very reasonable or mature option.

“What?” I asked.

Zac shrugged. “Just… I dunno, you looked kinda upset on the walk.”

Where did this sudden concern for me come from? He’d barely said two words to me since our fight, and now he was asking if I was okay? It made no sense. I shook my head. “I’m fine, Zac. Really.”

“If you say so…” he replied, his brow furrowing. “Forget I asked, I guess.”

He shoved past me then, yanking the door out of my hand so hard that I almost fell backward. I stared blankly at his quickly retreating figure, trying to figure out how I’d managed to upset him then. I really didn’t understand him at all.

Fearing that he was only going to fill the bus with smoke again, I let the door slam shut and walked away. I needed to find somewhere quiet to be alone. Since I didn’t have anyone but myself, I figured I might as well get used to being a loner. A quick check of my cell phone told me that I didn’t have long before our soundcheck, but perhaps I would still have enough time to clear my mind a little.

Somehow, I had a feeling it would take more than a short walk around the outside of the venue to get my mind where it needed to be.


	37. Hurt

On the way to Pittsburgh, I came to a conclusion. I knew that I still couldn’t go to Shay for comfort, no matter how much I wanted to. What I realized, though, was that he probably needed comforting as much as I did. I was probably the last person he wanted to talk to, but it wasn’t like he could go to anyone else on the tour to talk about what he had seen; at least, I really hoped that he didn’t. Who could he talk to about it? Zac? I didn’t really see that happening.

I knew that Shay probably hated me, and I didn’t know if I could change that, but I wanted to try. I decided that I would feel a lot better about myself, especially after how I’d acted around those fans, if I at least attempted to end things with Shay a little more amicably. And, while I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, there was a tiny, delusional part of me that hoped we could somehow patch things up and get back together.

It was one of those times when we left the venue late at night and drove straight on to the next location, stopping only for gas and food. Since it wasn’t _that_ long of a drive, we decided to take the time to actually stop for a sit down meal when we found a truck stop and diner side by side off the highway. Those of us who were still awake had the choice between chips and candy bars or greasy dinner food. I waited to see which Shay chose, and found myself cheering on the inside when he headed toward the diner. Maybe I could get him alone at a table and have a chat. It was a long shot, but I had to take it.

Nearly everyone else was content to grab a snack for the road, it seemed. A few others headed toward the diner along with Shay, but he didn’t seem to be part of their group. In fact, he sat on the opposite end of the small dining room. I supposed he felt as alone as I did, and I hoped that one commonality would be enough for him to give me a chance and at least talk to me. It was, after all, my fault that we were both so alone.

I trailed closely behind him as he made his way to a booth, not wanting to be so close that he would notice me. I hated feeling like I was stalking him, but I supposed I was. Shay sat down with his back to the rest of the restaurant, and I practically sprinted the last few steps and flung myself into the seat across from him.

“Taylor.” There was absolutely no emotion in his voice, and his face was unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” I said, figuring that was a safe way to begin. “I didn’t know how else to get you alone.”

“We’re in the middle of a restaurant,” he pointed out.

“We’re at the back of a restaurant, actually. And we’re at a table by ourselves. This is probably as alone as you’re going to let me get you.”

“Probably,” Shay replied with a hint of a smirk that faded quickly. “What do you want?”

“Just… just to talk to you,” I replied.

“What could you possibly have to say to me now?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but closed it once I noticed the waitress approaching. Shay and I both plastered on fake smiles as we gave her our orders—black coffee only for both of us. Once she was out of earshot, I said, “I don’t know, Shay. Maybe nothing, but I just felt like I had to try. Some of the fans were asking me about you yesterday and I just… I don’t know, I was just thinking about you.”

“Asking you about me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing like that,” I said. “Although I think a few of them are suspicious about us.”

“If they only knew,” he replied dryly.

My heart began to race. “You’re not… I thought you weren’t going to tell anyone.”

“I’m not,” he replied. “I’ll admit, the chance to hurt you… it’s tempting. But what good would it do me? Hurting you wouldn’t actually make me feel any better. And somehow I get the feeling you’re hurting enough on your own.”

His ability to be so reasonable astounded me. I had no doubt that I’d seriously hurt him, but still he was thinking of me. It only made me feel worse about myself.

“Was that all you wanted to talk about? Just to tell me your fans are gossiping about us?”

I shook my head. “No… I don’t know. Just… thank you for not telling anyone. It’s not… I’m not proud of it, you know? And I know it would be the end of everything if people found out. I’m not an idiot.”

“The obvious question, then, is why did you do it?”

I had time to mull that over as the waitress deposited our coffee mugs on the table, but I couldn’t come up with any new answers. Just the same excuses and rationalizations I’d made to myself all along.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve been trying to come up with an answer to that. And I just don’t know. It’s not like I just woke up one day and decided that I wanted Zac. Or, actually, I guess it was. I mean, I didn’t have a crush on him for years or anything like that. It just happened. All the sudden, he was there, trying to get my attention and… I couldn’t tell him no.”

“You could have, though. You _should_ have.”

“I know,” I replied, nodding. “Because it was wrong, and because… well, because of us. But you knew, Shay. You knew I wasn’t the relationship type. I’m not saying you brought this on yourself, but… I think I was fooling both of us, acting like I could actually do this. Actually be in a relationship and be faithful.”

“I think you could have proven yourself an unfit boyfriend without…” he trailed off with a shudder, and even though we were relatively alone, I was glad he hadn’t finished the sentence.

“Maybe,” I replied. “I wish I hadn’t at all. I wish I _had_ been a good boyfriend. But I guess I’m just… not.”

“Or you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not, so you’ll jump on any opportunity to prove it,” he countered.

“The result’s the same, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “I suppose it is.”

We drank the rest of our coffee in silence. After that conversation, I suppose neither of us had much of an appetite. I, for one, had far too much on my mind to think about eating. It made me sick to realize how reasonable Shay was being with me when I had been so horrible to him. I didn’t deserve it. I wanted to thank him for it, but I wasn’t sure how to say that without it seeming strange. The way he was staring down into his coffee let me know that the conversation was over; perhaps there _was_ a limit to how nice he could be to me, and this was it. I took the hint, paid for my coffee and left.

Some of the others were still milling around outside the bus, but I ignored them all and headed straight to the back of the bus. I was pleased to see that it was empty—no frustrating little brothers in sight. I flopped down on the couch and thought about what Seamus had said to me.

Was it just some self fulfilling prophecy? Had I been so convinced that I was awful that I sought out a way to prove it to him?

I could see the logic in that, but I didn’t believe it. Yes, I knew I was awful, and no, I wasn’t surprised that I had cheated. But that theory implied that I had used Zac. It felt a hell of a lot more like Zac had used me. Was it possible we had used each other?

There were too many thoughts swirling around in my mind to make sense of them all. I knew I was getting close to something, but I wasn’t sure _what_.

I could have dwelt on those thoughts for longer, but footsteps heading toward the back of the bus interrupted me. I wasn’t surprised to look up and see that the footsteps belonged to Zac. He stopped in the doorway and stared at me for a moment, looking like he was considering his options. With a shrug, he stepped toward me, gave me a shove to the side and sat down on the small space of couch that he managed to clear. There was an entire other couch he could have chosen to sit on, but of course, Zac just had to find a way to get under my skin.

I pulled myself up to a sitting position, but found that even with all the coffee in my system, I didn’t really have that much energy. I ended up slumping against Zac’s side, not caring if that annoyed him. What was the worst he could do if it did? Try to black my other eye? To my surprise, he didn’t move at all. In fact, he relaxed a little against me.

We were close enough that I could smell the lingering hint of weed on him. It didn’t surprise me, but I did wonder just when he’d found the time to smoke. He was like a ninja with that stuff; it seemed he was always sneaking off somewhere to smoke this tour.

“Are you stoned?” I asked, knowing that I already knew the answer.

“A little bit,” he replied. “You look like you need to be.”

“Yeah? You wanna help me with that, then?”

Zac turned his head toward me, bringing our faces uncomfortably close together, and raised an eyebrow. After a moment, he gave me a little nod. “Yeah, alright. I’ve got a little bit left.”

I moved aside so that Zac could reach into his pocket and pull out a tiny, almost entirely smoked joint. The end was completely black, and I watched with fascination as he held the lighter to it and sucked in deep hits that brought it to life. I didn’t know why Zac was being so nice to me, but I didn’t dare question it. He held out the little roach and I tried to ignore the way our fingers brushed as I took it from him. I closed my eyes as I took a hit to ignore the way he stared at me.

There wasn’t much left of the joint, and it didn’t take us long to finish it. That was alright, though. I didn’t smoke as much as Zac, so it didn’t take much for me to feel the effects. I slumped against his side more readily, not caring if it bothered him or what anyone would think if they saw us. He was comfortable but strong and sturdy, and I needed that. I let my eyes fall closed as Zac turned on a video game and began to play, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I was still there, clinging to his side like a leech.

The pot was just a temporary fix, I knew. It wouldn’t solve any of my problems. I could see why Zac liked it, though. Right then, I felt nothing. None of the problems that had plagued me for days, none of the thoughts Shay had forced into my mind… none of it mattered right then. Nothing hurt.


	38. Lucky

Nothing really changed with Zac or with Seamus after that night. Except for sharing his joint with me, it was like I still didn’t exist to Zac. I figured it was better that way, though. And Seamus? Well, I figured I was lucky just to have the one conversation with him.

After the concert the following night in Columbus, I figured I had a few choices. I could go straight to the bus and see if Zac felt like sharing his weed again. I didn’t really want to talk to him, but I did have a bit of a craving for the numbness that only pot could provide. The other option was to go out and face the fans. At least that would get me away from both Zac and Shay. Even if they were both there, I would be surrounded by fans.

I considered both options carefully during the concert, and eventually settled on the second one.

The venue had a small bathroom, and I figured it was a good idea to take a quick shower before going out to greet the fans. Knowing our fans, at least one of them would ask for a hug, and they probably wouldn’t appreciate it if I was still covered in an entire concert’s worth of sweat when I wrapped my arm around them.

Despite having taken tons of showers since then, this particular shower just reminded me of that one afternoon with Zac. I double and triple checked that the bathroom door was locked before taking my clothes off. I didn’t trust myself to say no if he cornered me again. Knowing how much I needed to refuse him obviously didn’t help at all. If he was there, naked, wet and asking for sex, I knew I couldn’t turn him down.

And I couldn’t stop myself from getting turned on at the thought of it.

My dick apparently wasn’t the only part of my body with a mind of its own. I should have ignored it and kept on showering. But no. My hand just had to find its way down there, and I just _had_ to jerk myself off to the memory of sex with Zac. The worst part was that it was one of the best orgasms of my life—ranking right up there with _actually_ having sex with Zac.

As if I needed another reminder that I was going to hell.

I leaned against the shower wall to catch my breath as I watched the water wash away the proof of what I’d done. If only it could wash the images of Zac out of my mind.

I finished showering as quickly as I could and wasted no time drying my hair or making myself presentable. I was clean and wearing clothes that didn’t smell; that was good enough, I figured. Nothing about that shower had made me feel any better about my life. I was still going to be nice and sign a few autographs, but I certainly wasn’t in a good mood. Hopefully the fans wouldn’t notice.

By the time I made my way outside, I could tell that one of my brothers was already there. There were too many fans crowded around, giggling and talking, for me to see which brother it was, but I had no doubt there was a Hanson _somewhere_ in the crowd. A few of them broke off from the herd when they noticed me, and I gave them the best smile I could manage. It didn’t feel like much of a smile to me, but it seemed to satisfy them.

With my sharpie in hand, I signed everything that was thrust upon me, but I made little conversation. Small talk was really all I thought I could manage. Some stupid part of my brain wondered if any of the fans had even the tiniest inkling of everything that was going on in my life. If they did, surely they wouldn’t be smiling at me and vying for my attention. How could they hang around and gush about how great the concert was if they really knew the things I had done?

Of course they didn’t know, though. They hardly even suspected that I was with Seamus.

“So does Seamus not come out after the shows?” One of the girls asked as I handed her signed poster back.

Was I psychic? Had I planted the idea of him in her mind without even meaning to? No. Of course not. That was just stupid and paranoid to even consider. It was just my bad luck that someone would ask about him.

“Umm,” I choked out. “No, he… he usually doesn’t. He just… likes to relax after the shows.”

It was a load of bullshit, and I was certain they could see through it.

“Oh,” she replied, a little pout on her lips. “Well, you should tell him we’d like for him to come out and hang out some time.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can make Shay do anything, but I’ll tell him what you said.”

“Shay? Oh, is that, like, his nickname?”

Had I called him Shay? Oops. “Yeah, some people call him that.”

“I think it’s really cute,” another girl said, giggling.

“If you say so,” I mumbled, grabbing someone else’s cd to sign and hopefully distract myself and give those girls the hint to move on.

Naturally, it didn’t work.

“It’s definitely cute,” the first girl said. “Especially the way Tay says it.”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to hear that last part, but I definitely did. I couldn’t stop myself from raising an eyebrow, but I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying anything really stupid.

“He just seems like such a sweetheart,” a third girl chimed in.

“He is,” I said. The words just fell out of my mouth all on their own. They were true, though, and once I’d started, I feared I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. “He’s a really, really great guy. He deserves to be happy.”

“Is he… not happy?” One of the girls asked, her face a picture of confusion.

It was possible that I had said far too much, but I’d dug myself a deep hole that I didn’t know how to get out of. “Umm… well, I just think he deserves all the happiness in the world, that’s all.”

“He sings some pretty sad songs. Did someone break his heart?”

“Yeah,” I replied. That was met with a chorus of awws, and I found I still couldn’t stop myself. “And like I said, he just… he deserves the best. Anyone who was with him ought to see how lucky they are. He’s just… an amazing guy.”

I managed to shut myself up then, because I could tell from a few of the looks I was getting that I’d gone too far. I could hear the stupid lovesick tone in my voice, so I was sure a few of the more astute fans did too. I signed the last few autographs as quickly as I possibly could, hoping I could make a fast escape without answering any more awkward questions.

After a few more smiles and goodbyes, I managed to extricate myself from the crowd. I turned and walked back toward the bus, which was only a few yards from where the fans had gathered. As I rounded the corner, I nearly collided with someone, and it took me only a moment to gain my bearings and realize it was Seamus.

“Shay,” I gasped out. “You uh… were you going to sign autographs?”

“Though about it,” he replied, then gave me a tiny smirk. “Looked like you had things under control, though.”

“They were asking for you,” I admitted.

Shay nodded. “Yeah. I heard.”

“You did?”

He nodded again, then motioned toward the bus door. “Why don’t we take this conversation inside, though? I reckon you’ve given them enough to gossip about already.”

I gulped, but didn’t argue. He was right. I knew I had said too much to the fans. It might not have seemed all that revealing to some of the fans, but there was meaning in my words that I wasn’t ready to articulate to Shay—not that I thought it would really matter if I did tell him any of what I was thinking.

Maybe it would, though. He certainly seemed shaken as he closed the bus door behind us and headed straight to the refrigerator for a beer. He offered me one as well, but I really didn’t feel like drinking right then.

As much as I didn’t want to know, I had to ask him the question nagging my mind. “So umm… how much of what I said did you hear?”

“Just the part about how amazing I am,” he replied with a smirk.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, well… wouldn’t want to give you an ego problem or anything. But everything I said was true.”

“Even the part about how I deserve to be happy?” He asked, his voice softer.

“Yeah,” I replied, nodding. “And how lucky I was to have someone like you… and I _did_ know that. That’s why I tried to keep the thing with Zac a secret, you know? I know it’s fucking twisted logic, but I knew I was jeopardizing what we had. I just didn’t know how to stop myself.”

“You were trying to protect me,” he said. “It’s not _any_ sort of logic, but I suppose I can see how you would convince yourself it was your best hope.”

I took a tiny, tentative step closer to him. “It doesn’t change anything though, does it? Road to hell, good intentions and all that crap.”

“No,” he replied sadly, shaking his head. “It really doesn’t. You’re missing one part of the picture, though.”

“What’s that?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

“In spite of everything that you did, I happen to think I was pretty lucky, too. For a brief while, I saw a part of you that I’m not sure you’ve shown anyone else. I saw that you _are_ capable of love, despite what you think.”

I stared at Shay, letting his words sink in. While we’d never said that particular word to each other, I supposed it was pretty obvious that was how I felt about him. I supposed he was right. It wasn’t as though I’d really thought myself incapable of it, exactly, but I just didn’t see the _point_. As this short lived relationship had proven, falling in love only ended up hurting in the end. Maybe it didn’t have to, though. It was my fault it hurt, so why couldn’t I have stopped the pain?

I didn’t have an answer for that.

“I just wish…” I muttered. “I wish I could have done things differently.”

“Me too,” Shay replied softly.

He sat down on the couch then and turned his attention to a book he pulled out of the cushions. I was pretty sure it was mine, but I didn’t see the need to be so petty right then. The conversation was obviously over, so I decided to make my way to the back of the bus. Perhaps Zac would be there and in the mood to share his weed again…

I pushed the curtain aside and immediately ran into yet another person.

This time, it was Zac. His eyes were wide and he staggered back away from me.

“Jesus, Tay,” he said. “You could give a guy a heart attack.”

“Sorry…” I replied. “Didn’t know you were there.”

“I was just… umm, just coming to get a drink,” he said, but there was something odd in his voice and the way he stuttered out his excuse.

It was an excuse, I was certain of that. He had been eavesdropping. I wanted to be angry with him, but I found I just didn’t have the energy for yet another fight.

“Well, go get a drink then… I’ll be in the back.”

Zac nodded. “Yeah… okay.”

As I made my way to the back of the bus and settled into one of the couches, I couldn’t help wondering what Zac thought of the conversation he had witnessed. Knowing Zac, he wouldn’t waste any time telling me. He seemed to enjoy watching me fight with Shay; at least, he had until we had been found out. Whatever he thought about that, he seemed to be keeping it bottled up, which wasn’t very like him at all.

A moment later, he returned with a soda in his hand and nudged me aside so that he could sit down in the spot my feet had been occupying. Again, I didn’t have the energy to fight with him. Instead, I just stretched my legs out across his lap. Surprisingly, Zac didn’t move them.

“You want to smoke?” He asked, digging a pipe out of the recesses of the couch cushions.

I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering just how many bits of his drug paraphernalia he had stashed around the bus. I figured it was better not to ask; ignorance was definitely my friend. And at that moment, I decided pot was my friend, too. I gave Zac a nod and a tiny smile. “Yeah, sure. Couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Hasn’t hurt me yet,” he mumbled, digging out a lighter and a bag of pot from under the couch. He really did just have things stashed everywhere. I wasn’t sure why that surprised me. Even more than that, I was surprised that he had yet to mention Seamus. I was certain he only offered the weed because he knew I was in a bad mood again. Surely it would only be a matter of time before he said _something_ about the cause of that mood.

But he didn’t.

We passed the bowl back and forth quietly until there was nothing left of it. It was one of the only peaceful moments we’d shared in the entire tour. As much as I enjoyed it, I couldn’t entirely relax. There was still a voice in the back of my head telling me that the peace couldn’t possibly last. I just wasn’t that lucky.


	39. Bubble

I’ve probably said it before, but touring is really like being on your own planet. The fans get to visit, but all of us on the bus are basically in a little bubble. The world outside has very little effect on you when you’re cooped up in a tour bus or locked in a hotel room. You forget that anyone outside of your tour family exists.

When one member of that tour family is suddenly gone, you really feel that loss.

Or maybe I was just melodramatic and hated spending a day away from Seamus. We were playing this special, one off show with a few other artists, and he wasn’t one of them. Days ago, I would have imagined the two of us having fun going off together during what little downtime we had during the day. I knew that wasn’t going to happen now, though. Shay made excuses about needing to be somewhere else to meet with some songwriter friend, but I had a feeling he was just avoiding me.

I supposed this was just a trial run for the rest of the tour without him. We had two more legs of the tour planned, after all, and he wasn’t the opening act for either. This was it. In just a few short days, Shay would be completely out of my life.

After this leg of the tour wrapped up, we had planned to spend two weeks off in Tulsa. I could tell already that some people were longing for the downtime and others weren’t. Then there were those of us, like me, who were torn between the two. I needed more time. I wasn’t ready to just let Shay go. At the same time, I had a feeling a break from Zac would be really, really good for me. I hadn’t figured out how to explain that to him yet, though.

We never really took genuine breaks as a band. Even during our downtime between tours, we spent hours upon hours at the office, finding things to work on, or making up excuses to gather at our parents’ house. It was just second nature to us to always be together; thirteen years as a band, on top of being brothers, would do that to you.

So how could I possibly explain to my little brother that we needed to spend some time apart for the first time ever?

Even in light of everything that had happened between us, I wasn’t sure he would agree to it. After all, the last few days had been better. I wasn’t really sure _why_ , but they had been. Maybe it was the weed. Of course it would mellow him out a little, but it wasn’t a miracle drug. It couldn’t make all our problems go away. It could damn sure help, though.

Since the concert was part of a thing sponsored by some radio station, we had to give an interview that afternoon. We barely even had time to squeeze in our soundcheck amongst all the other bands, and once that and the interview were over with, I could tell we were all looking forward to a little downtime before the concert. It wouldn’t be long, but hopefully it would at least be enough time for dinner. Judging by the look on Zac’s face and the way he kept nervously tapping on every available surface, I had a feeling he was craving more than just dinner.

As usual, no one in our entire tour family could agree on just one thing for dinner. Surprisingly, Zac and I both wanted pizza, so I decided to be a good brother and pick one up for us and bring it back to the bus. I was pretty sure I saw Zac let out a sigh of relief after I presented my plan.

It didn’t take me that long to find a pizza place within walking distance of the huge parking lot our bus was camped out in. I did, however, have a pretty long wait once I actually arrived at the pizza place. It only gave me more time to think about the situation I’d gotten myself into.

I had to end things with Zac for good. Even if Shay was leaving and things between he and I were beyond fixing, it just wasn’t _right_. Having sex with my brother was a level of depraved even I didn’t want to think about, but it was too late not to think about it. It was bad enough just to worry what the fans—not to mention the gossip rags—would think if they found out I had a boyfriend. What if they found out that boyfriend was also my brother?

Not that I was dating Zac. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

After an excruciatingly long wait, I finally had two large meat lovers pizzas piled in my arms. The walk back to our little tent city in the parking lot seemed even longer the second time, and I could think of a few reasons for that. First, I was starving. Second, I knew I needed to talk to Zac.

As soon as I opened the bus door and watched a cloud of smoke drift out, I knew that I could check the second item off that list. There would be no talking to him while he was stoned.

Somehow I managed to balance the pizza boxes on one arm while I retrieved two sodas from the refrigerator. Even more shockingly, I didn’t drop anything as I made my way to Zac’s little safe haven in the back of the bus. If the entire tour was in a bubble, the back lounge was Zac’s personal bubble.

And right then, that bubble was full of pot smoke.

“Dinner is served,” I said, holding a soda out to him and carefully setting the pizza boxes in the floor.

He set his pipe aside, and wordlessly, we both began to eat. Usually we were big talkers during meals—something that got us into plenty of trouble when we were younger. That particular etiquette lesson never seemed to sink in, no matter how hard our mom tried. Right then, though, neither of us said a word. I didn’t know about Zac, but my silence was caused mostly by fear and dread. I had plenty of things to say, but I didn’t know how to say them or how they might be received once I did.

I wondered if Zac was having the same problem. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, I was practically on the edge of my seat with anticipation.

“You want me to pack another bowl for us?”

I blinked. “Oh… umm, sure.”

That wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but nothing Zac had done during this tour had been. I watched him closely as he dug out his little stash of weed and refilled his pipe. If it wasn’t already glaringly obvious that he was a pothead, watching him pick out the seeds and stems and effortlessly prepare the bowl for us was all the proof anyone would need. His hands moved with a mind of their own, the same way that they did when he was behind the drums, and it was almost as much fun to watch.

Finally, he turned and handed me the pipe. I pulled my own lighter out of my pocket; all the stress of the last few days had caused my nicotine addiction to rear its ugly head again. Zac’s eyes were on me as I lit the pipe and took the first hit. I passed the pipe back to him, and we continued trading it off like that.

It felt good. Really good. Until this tour, I hadn’t smoked pot for years. Every now and then I joined in the parties that inevitably happened during some of our tours, but I was much more a fan of alcohol. I could get used to this pot thing, though, especially if it meant Zac and I could actually spend time together and not be at each others’ throats—or other body parts.

As soon as I thought it, as though he could read my mind, Zac slumped over and laid his head on my shoulder. I couldn’t push him away without causing a fight, so I didn’t. I just wrapped my arm around him and sighed.

“You alright, Tay?”

I nodded softly. “Yeah… feeling pretty good now.”

“I didn’t mean the pot,” he said. “I mean… all the shit that’s been happening. Everything with Shay and… with us.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, hoping he didn’t feel my body grow tense. I wanted to pull away from him, but my body wasn’t really cooperating enough for that. I was suddenly regretting getting so high just before a concert, but there were still a few opening acts before we had to go on. “I don’t know what I am right now, Zac. Things are just… so fucked up.”

“Yeah,” he replied softly. “I wish I knew how to fix things.”

“I wish I did, too.”

I did, though. Didn’t I? Just end things with Zac. It was that simple. Tell him we needed to spend some time apart, and eventually he would understand that we couldn’t be together like that. I just had to actually spit the words out, which wasn’t really easy in my current condition.

“Zac, I just… umm…”

Well, that was a start. It was as far as I got, though. Before I could get my tongue to form any other words, I heard footsteps heading our way. I looked up and saw Isaac staring down at us with a very confused look on his face. He was definitely in our personal bubble.

“Are you guys stoned? You’re fucking stoned.”

Zac just giggled against my shoulder. It tickled.

“Well, at least we’ve still got an hour or so before the concert…” He narrowed his eyes. “You guys are going to cool it, right?”

Again, Zac just giggled. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, Ike. Just let us chill for a while and we’ll be alright for the show.”

He mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch, but I was sure it wasn’t very flattering. With one last look at the two of us, he spun around and left.

“Well, that was… something…” I said.

“Yeah,” Zac replied with a sigh.

He rested even more of his body weight against me, effectively forcing me to lay down on the couch because I could no longer support him. We were dangerously close to cuddling, and I could do nothing to stop it.

If I couldn’t even stop him from cuddling with me, how could I ever tell him that we had to stop this thing between us? I didn’t know, but I knew I had to find a way. It wasn’t optional.


	40. Home

Shay came back to the bus just before we left that night. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to spend as long away from me as possible. I don’t know why he bothered; the tour was almost over, and then he would be rid of me for good.

That was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

As I sat on the bus couch trying to read a book—thank you, insomnia—I couldn’t help noticing Shay staring at me. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there at the little booth across from the couch, occasionally glancing up from his notebook and just… _staring_.

"Do you need something?” I asked when I could take no more of it. It sounded a little harsh, but I didn’t really care. The lack of sleep was getting to me, but no matter how long I lay in my bunk, sleep wouldn’t come. Reading was my last resort, and I couldn’t even manage to do that without someone’s eyes boring holes into me.

He shook his head. “No… not really. Just thinking, I guess.”

“About me?”

“Yes and no,” he replied.

It was my turn to stare at him then. I sat my book down and glared at him, raising an eyebrow. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I guess… well, not just you. But the whole situation.”

“So me _and_ Zac.”

He nodded. I wondered if his every waking hour was filled with thoughts of me and Zac. Somehow, I had a feeling they were, and I truly wished there were a way for me to fix that. If I could reach into his brain and pull those thoughts and memories out, I gladly would. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really an option. I would have done it in a heartbeat, though. Even if it meant removing all memories of me and erasing our entire relationship. That brief bit of happiness wasn’t worth what he was going through now.

Was this empathy? It felt strange.

It wasn’t like I had suddenly realized that my actions hurt other people. I knew that. The problem was my inability to stop myself from doings that I knew would hurt them. It was a cycle I didn’t know how to escape. This was starting to feel like a wake up call, though. How much worse could I do than having sex with my brother? Not very, without breaking a whole bunch of laws.

“Shay, I just…” I trailed off, not even sure why I bothered to start that sentence. I knew my words couldn’t change anything. “I just wish I could stop this. Undo it. Anything.”

“Me too,” he replied. “I’ve never been one to say things happen for a reason, but I keep looking for some reason for all of this. I can’t find any.”

I sighed. “I don’t know… there’s no reason for _you_ to go through this, but me? Maybe. I mean, I’m an awful person, Shay. I know it. So why can’t I just change?”

“Because being awful worked. It got you what you wanted. It hasn’t this time, though, has it?”

I shook my head.

“Well, then I guess maybe you should change.”

“Yeah,” I replied with a sigh. “I just… I don’t know how.”

“That’s something you’re going to have to figure out on your own, I’m afraid.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Shay gave me a small smile. “Look, you just… you just need to figure out for sure why you want to change. Once you figure that out, the how will be obvious.”

It was cryptic and a little confusing, but I had a feeling I knew what he meant. People might have said that you should only change for yourself, not others, but in this case I didn’t think that held true. Everything I did was for myself; that was the problem. I needed to change so that I could be better to other people. People like Seamus.

“I think I know what you mean,” I replied, giving him a smile. “And I think you’re right.”

“Good,” he said, standing up and reaching his hand out to me. “Then let’s go to bed, okay?”

****

I had hardly believed Shay at all when he said those words to me, but he meant exactly what he said. We climbed into his bunk together, and it seemed like a tighter fit than I remembered. Somehow we made it through the night, though.

For a moment, things seemed normal again. I didn’t even think twice about it before hopping out of the bunk and dragging him along with me. Naturally, the first person we ran into was Zac. He only glared at us, but it was an expression that spoke volumes.

I thought back over the entire tour, and realized the three of us had shared a lot of those moments. I didn’t understand how Seamus hadn’t seen the truth sooner. Maybe he just didn’t want to believe it. It was pretty ridiculous, after all. I wasn’t sure it was a conclusion most people would even jump to, so it probably hadn’t even occurred to him. Why the hell _would_ he realize my brother’s behavior had anything to do with the two of us having sex?

It did, though, and for the rest of the day I could feel Zac’s eyes on me. I knew he was angry about seeing me with Shay, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t even know what it meant. Were we getting back together? He’d kissed my forehead after we laid down, but that was it. It felt different than before. I didn’t think we were getting back together, but I was really just trying not to get my hopes up.

There was no way I could explain all my thoughts to Zac. So I decided not to tell him anything.

Despite Zac’s weirdness, I went through my day in a relatively good mood—a hell of a lot better than I’d felt for a week, at least. I was cautiously optimistic. Shay and I didn’t really have much of a chance to spend any time together, so I got no further clarity about what the night had meant.

Maybe it meant nothing.

I really didn’t want to consider that possibility, but I knew that I had to.

But maybe not just yet. For now, I was perfectly content to just stand by the side of the stage and listen to Shay perform. This time, it didn’t feel so much like I was torturing myself. As seemed to be his tradition, he introduced a brand new song at the end of his set. I was curious. Could it be about me? I felt conceited for even considering it, but I didn’t think it was just a coincidence that he’d started writing so many songs since our breakup. I listened closely, hoping to see some hint of me in the lyrics.

_I gave me away_   
_I could have knocked off the evening_   
_But a lonelily landed my waltz in her hands_   
_In a way I felt you were leaving me_   
_I was sure I wouldn’t find you at home_   
_And you let me down_   
_Could have knocked off the evening_   
_But you lonelily let him push under your bone_   
_You let me down_   
_It’s no use deceiving_   
_Neither of us wanna be alone_

_You’re coming home, you’re coming home_

_I gave me away_   
_I could have knocked off the evening_   
_But I was lonelily looking for someone to hold_   
_In a way I lost all I believed in_   
_And I never found myself so low_   
_And you let me down_   
_You could’ve called if you’d needed_   
_But you lonelily got yourself locked instead_   
_And you let me down_   
_It’s one thing being cheated_   
_But you took him all the way through your bed_

_And now you’re coming home_   
_And I’m trying to forgive_   
_You’re coming home_   
_And I’m trying to forget_   
_You’re coming_   
_And I’m trying to move on_   
_You’re coming home_   
_And you haven’t called yet_

_You’re coming home_   
_And I’m trying to forgive_   
_You’re coming home_   
_I’m just trying to forget_   
_You’re coming_   
_I’m trying to move on_   
_You’re coming home_   
_But you haven’t called_   
_You’re coming home_

_You’re coming home, you’re coming home_

_I gave me away_   
_I could have knocked off the evening_   
_But I lonelily loomed her into my bone_   
_You let me down_   
_There’s no use deceiving_   
_Neither of us wanna be alone_

It was more than a hint. I was all over that song. At one point, I was fairly certain Shay even caught my eye when he glanced off to the side of the stage. Sometimes I really thought he could read my mind. Then again, if he could, our breakup would have happened a lot sooner.

Even though this song seemed more sad than the other one, I could hear love in it. I could hear heartbreak. And you can’t have the latter without the former. I _had_ let him down; I knew I had. Would he have really listened to me, though? I couldn’t imagine that conversation, trying to explain to him what was happening with Zac.

There was really nothing hopeful about the song, and it only reminded me that I was going home soon. Away from Seamus. Away from any little sliver of hope we might have had between us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics used in this chapter are from "Lonelily" by Damien Rice.


	41. Fixable

The last few days of the tour seemed to go by so fast. I supposed that was partially because a big part of me still didn’t want the tour to end. But it was also just a fact. Our last few shows were back to back, leaving us sleeping on the bus and traveling all through the night to get to the next location. There was barely any time to really rest, and definitely no time to have all the conversations I knew I needed to have.

I had to at least try, though. I wasn’t sleeping anyway, so I figured I ought to do _something_ productive during the long bus ride to Indianapolis.

I wasn’t surprised to find Shay sitting at the front of the bus. I guess we were both feeling a bit insomniac, with so much on our minds. Hesitantly, still not sure how he would react, I took a seat next to him. Not too close, of course. Didn’t want to take an unnecessary risks. Shay was just staring off into space, but when I sat down, he glanced my way, if only for a second.

“Umm,” I said, then cleared my throat. “I really… I really liked that new song you played last night.”

“Yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded. “You’re a great songwriter. I don’t know… I guess I probably haven’t told you that before, but you really are.”

He didn’t respond, but he continued to stare at me. I decided to take that as a good sign, and it opened the floodgates.

“I know it was weird for you to come on this tour… I mean, with our little bit of a history. But in spite of that, I really did want you to come. And not because I wanted a second chance. You’re just… really talented. Everything else aside, it’s been great to have you with us.”

Shay smirked. “So, what are you trying to butter me up for?”

“Nothing,” I replied, pouting. “But I guess it sounds like that, doesn’t it? You know I just ramble sometimes.”

“That you do,” he said, chuckling softly. “Did you have a point or were you just rambling again?”

“Just rambling, I guess,” I replied. “Look, that song… it was umm…”

“Not entirely about you,” Shay cut in.

I let out a sigh. “But… it was partially about me?”

He shrugged. “I started writing it a long time ago. I guess it’s one of those things where you have an idea, but you can’t finish it until you’ve really been through what you’re writing about.”

“I know what you mean,” I replied. “I just… I’m turning into a broken record here, but I really wish I could undo everything.”

Shay tilted his head to the side and smirked. “You know what’s strange?”

I shook my head.

“I’m not sure that I want to undo it all.”

I stared at him, not understanding at all what he meant.

“I mean… well, like we talked about last night. I’m not saying everything happens for a reason, but while it was good, it was good. I wouldn’t trade that just to erase… how it all turned out.”

And yet again, Shay managed to prove he was a better man than me. I gave him a smile. “I’m glad you feel that way, I guess.”

“Good,” he said, returning my smile. “Do you think I could give you a hug now? Something tells me you really need one.”

“Absolutely.”

We both went in for the hug at the same time, which ended with me practically crawling into his lap. Shay didn’t seem to mind, though. He just laughed and held me tighter.

It felt good to be in his arms again. Really, really good. It was different this time, though. We still seemed to fit together perfectly, but something was missing. I guess we were both disillusioned now. We knew that no matter how good this felt, we weren’t together and we weren’t going to be.

Before I could vocalize any of those thoughts, Zac walked into the room. He had a way of doing that—just popping up at the most awkward moments. He appeared to be half asleep, so I wasn’t even sure that he noticed us at first. Still, I instinctively pulled away from Shay. It seemed silly to feel guilty about being with him now, but that didn’t rid me of the feeling.

Zac took his sweet time getting a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I was sure he did it just to bug us, and if so, it was working. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he walked back toward the bunks, casting a tiny glare my way before he slipped through the doorway.

Shay cleared his throat, and I scooted ever so slightly closer to him. I was sure he realized why I’d moved away, but I hoped he wouldn’t say anything about it.

“So…” he said, and I braced myself. “About last night, Tay.”

“Oh, what about it?” I asked, trying to feign innocence and surely failing.

“I fear I may have given some mixed signals. I mean, sleeping with you, then singing that song…”

I nodded. “A little mixed, yes.”

“I suppose…” he began, then sighed. “I really can’t explain it. I wish we could go back to where we were, but I know we really can’t. You know we can’t, right?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ve tried to convince myself that we can, but… I suppose it really wouldn’t work.”

“No, I don’t think it would. Doesn’t mean there isn’t a part of me that wishes we could. And in spite of how much… how much you’ve hurt me, I still care about you. I can see that _you’re_ hurting, too. And I wish I could do something to fix that. To fix everything.”

“I’m not sure any of it is fixable,” I replied softly.

“Maybe, maybe not. But I don’t think us getting back together is part of the solution.”

I sighed. I knew he was right, but I still didn’t enjoy hearing it spelled out.

“Don’t you agree, Tay?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I mean, logically I know you’re right. Doesn’t mean I like it.”

“I know. And I’m sorry if my little moment of weakness gave you any false hopes.”

I chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. I think I’m way past any hope now.”

Shay frowned and pulled me closer. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, then sighed. “You’ll be alright, Tay. In time, I promise you will be alright. Now how about you go get some sleep? Alone this time, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah… alright.” I didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to leave him and crawl into my bunk alone, even though I knew I didn’t really have a choice.

He gave me one last hug then playfully shoved me away, and I knew that was my cue to leave.

To my surprise, I fell asleep almost the second that my head hit the pillow. Nothing had been fixed by that conversation, but apparently it had still taken some weight off my mind.

****

I woke up happy for once. It was strange, I realized, to feel that way considering the conversation I’d had with Shay. We weren’t getting back together, but I was becoming okay with that. I understood it, even if I didn’t like it. We’d reached some sort of closure, and I suppose that was the reason I managed to actual fall asleep and stay asleep.

My good mood was gone within seconds of waking up, though. The first person I saw at the front of the bus just _had_ to be Zac. We’d stopped early to get breakfast before going to the venue, and while there were plenty of others milling around and slowly waking up, Zac was the first one to catch my eye.

And he did not look happy.

I took a few steps closer to him and reached for his arm, but he jerked away from me. I was going to suggest that we go to the back of the bus and talk, but I didn’t get the chance. Before I could say a word, he was gone, racing out the bus door like someone was chasing him.

I hated that he probably felt that way. At the moment, I didn’t understand it. Things had been good between us for days. Was it just that little sighting of me with Shay bothering him? I supposed it must have been.

I didn’t know how, but I had to try to make this right.

I took my time getting dressed, hoping that would give Zac some time to cool down and actually be willing to face me. Once I thought I was vaguely presentable, I walked off the bus and glanced around. We were parked at a large truck stop with a couple little restaurants attached. If I knew Zac, and I was fairly certain I did, I would find him in McDonald’s. Even when he went on his health food kicks, he couldn’t resist Mickey D’s breakfast.

Sure enough, he was holed up in one of their booths. He wasn’t eating, though. There was a bagel in front of him, but he was just staring off into the distance. That was strange, but I’d come to expect strangeness from Zac during this tour.

I didn’t waste any time ordering food for myself, even though I would have loved a coffee right then. I didn’t want to give Zac the chance to escape. Before he had time to realize what I was doing, I slid into the seat across from him. He just glared at me.

“Figured you’d be with Seamus.”

“Why would you think that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Didn’t you guys make up?”

“In a way,” I replied. “But we’re not… we didn’t get back together. We just made some kind of peace, I guess.”

A look of shock passed across Zac’s face for a moment, then something that looked more like relief. “So does that mean he’s going to stop singing angry songs about you?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably not. I probably gave him enough material for a whole album.”

Zac almost laughed at that, I’m pretty sure. His lips threatened to turn up in a smile, but I could see that he was fighting it. “You probably did.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll write some about him, too.”

At that, Zac’s smile was entirely gone. I had a feeling I’d said completely the wrong thing. I had a habit of doing that.

“Look, Zac, I…” I began, not really sure what I was going to say, but knowing that I needed to say something.

He shook his head. “Forget it. It’s alright.”

I wanted to argue with him, because I knew it wasn’t, but what would that have fixed? Another argument wasn’t really what we needed right then. For right then, things were as close to okay as I thought they could be. I still hadn’t said everything I needed to say to him, but I would. I had to. It was the only way to fix this, if it could be fixed at all. I just had to find the words.

Right then, though, I was happy to just sit in silence with him. Silence was far better than fighting.


	42. Tulsa

Home, sweet home.

The tour might not have been over, but I didn’t care. It had never felt so good to come home, even if it was for only two weeks.

There were times that I wanted to escape Tulsa—times when it felt small and stifling, and I couldn’t remember what it was about such a small, backwards town that made me want to call it home. Then there were times when all I really needed was to escape all the drama and craziness of the business and the road. There was no better place, except perhaps a cabin hidden in the woods somewhere, than Tulsa to do just that.

Since a cabin in the woods wasn’t exactly a viable option right then, Tulsa it was.

I didn’t even mind waking up early as we rolled into Oklahoma. It felt nice to sit by the bus window and just stare out at the fields passing us by. Logically, I knew they weren’t any different than the countless other fields we’d passed by in the midwest, but they _felt_ different. They felt like home. They felt like _hope_.

I was running low on that. Hope, I mean. But coming home seemed to renew what little I had.

It felt so much better than I could have imagined to go to my Starbucks again. To lug my suitcases into my house. To walk down the street to my office. I supposed it was just how awful this tour was that made home seem so much better than it ever had before. I hoped the feeling remained. I didn’t want to start feeling claustrophobic after just a day or two back in Tulsa.

The hometown crowd was different. It always had been. There was just a different energy to it, even when I knew that probably half of the audience wasn’t even from Tulsa. Maybe it was just Cain’s Ballroom and all the history it held. We all felt it. It was the reason why we so often began and ended our tours here. This might not have been the ultimate ending of the tour, but it was a good way to kick off a two week break.

We played a long set that night. Everyone was really feeling it, I think. Even Shay played a few more upbeat songs than usual—and for once, I didn’t think any of them were about me.

After the concert, we all planned to go to McNellie’s for something of an after party. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was thrown together at the last minute. I couldn’t help thinking that no one had planned a real party because of all the tension during the past week. Now that I seemed to be getting along with everyone again—or at least not pissing them off every two seconds—some of the guys had seen fit to make this last minute plan.

I didn’t really care if my paranoid theory was correct. I just wanted alcohol.

When we got to McNellie’s, though, I didn’t feel as much like getting shitfaced. Knowing me, no good could possibly come of it. With both Zac and Shay around, I was really just asking for trouble. I settled for nursing a few rum and cokes, which gave me a nice buzz, but left me feeling like I still had control of myself. I was perfectly content to just sit back and sip my drinks, watching the party around me but not really participating in it.

I don’t know how long I’d sat there by myself when Shay made his way over and slid into the seat across from me.

“Thought you were a party animal,” he said, smirking.

I forced a little laugh. “I guess I’m getting old.”

“Well, it was a great show tonight. Great way to end a tour.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “We usually do some little prank on the opening act at the last show, so… consider yourself lucky, I guess.”

“Mmm, actually I do consider myself lucky, but I think I would have liked a prank. Could have been fun.”

“I guess no one was really in the mood for it,” I replied with a frown. “These last few days have been… rough.”

Shay nodded. “That they have. But hey, time to turn over a new leaf, yeah?”

“I guess.” I sighed. It sounded so much easier than I knew it really would be.

He reached across the table and pulled my hand off my drink, grasping it loosely in his own. “You can do this, Tay. I’ve got faith in you. I know you… you’ve done some bad things this tour, but I think you did a lot of growing, too. I mean, you had an actual relationship, however briefly, didn’t you?”

“I guess I did. And that worked out so well for me didn’t it?”

Shay rolled his eyes. “You tried, though. Didn’t you?”

“Did I?” I asked honestly. “I don’t know. I guess I did, sometimes. But then… well, you know.”

“Your heart was in the right place, I think,” he replied.

“Other parts of my body weren’t…” I mumbled, unable to stop myself.

Shay cringed slightly, but it passed quickly. “Be that as it may, I think this was a big milestone for you. Now you’ve got some time off to decide where to go next.”

“What if I have no idea where that might be?”

He just gave me a shrug and a grin. “Well, that’s up to you to figure out. And you’ve got plenty of time. You don’t have to jump into something else right away. Being by yourself—totally by yourself—could be good.”

“It could be,” I replied. “But I’m going to be surrounded by people for a few more months.”

“I didn’t mean entirely alone. Just… not in a relationship. Of any sort.”

I nodded. “I know, I know. It just feels like I’m suffocating here.”

“Well, you’ve got a break coming up, right? I’d say you ought to really take advantage of that.”

“Yeah,” I replied with a smile. “I think you’re right.”

“I often am,” he said, smirking. “Now, I’m going to go get another drink. Would you like anything?”

I shook my head. “I should probably get going soon. But umm… thanks for not hating me. Seriously.”

He smirked. “Believe me, I’m as shocked as you are that I don’t. I don’t understand it at all, I’m still, frankly, disgusted by it, but… I don’t know. I care about you. I worry about you. But I think you’ll be alright.”

“I hope you’re right.”

I felt a little better after Shay left, with all of his words still echoing in my mind. A break really was what I needed. He was right. It might have only been two weeks, but it was better than nothing, and I was going to take full advantage of it.

I downed the rest of my drink and then made my way to the bar where I knew I would find Ike. He told me the last time he’d seen Zac, he was on his way upstairs. I was sure that meant I would find him at the pool table or glued to one of the video games. I took the stairs two at a time, and sure enough, I soon found Zac hunched over some old video game.

This was it. Now or never.

“Zac?”

Just that one word made him jump practically a foot into the air. He cursed and kicked the game machine, just because he could, I guess, and I had to wonder how much he’d had to drink. Zac wasn’t much of a drinker, but when he did give in to the temptation, it was usually not a pretty sight.

Finally he calmed down and stared at me. “What?”

“Umm… good show tonight?”

He blinked. “Is that really what you came up here to say?”

“Yes.” No. “Well… it’s just… umm, it’s been a hell of a tour, hasn’t it?”

“You can say that again,” he replied. He picked up a beer from a nearby table and downed it, and I was sure he was trying to end the conversation but I wasn’t going to let him.

“Look, Zac… I’ve been thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he replied, with a smirk that might have been more cruel than teasing, but I couldn’t say for sure.

“I just think…” I sighed. “You know, we’ve got two weeks off. I think it could be good for us to take some time off.”

“That’s the general idea, yeah. What else are we going to do with two weeks off?”

I shook my head. “No, I mean… like us. I think I need some time away from you. We don’t have any band stuff planned, so I just want to… be a hermit, I guess. Get my head back on straight before we leave again.”

Zac snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“I’m trying to be serious here,” I practically growled.

He blinked a few times, then stared intently at me, no doubt trying to judge just how serious I was. I didn’t waiver, except for possibly wobbling a little bit due to all that rum I’d chugged just before coming upstairs.

“Okay,” he finally said. “If that’s what you think will… help. Then sure, I guess. Two weeks apart.”

I nodded. “Two weeks apart. I think it’ll be good for us.”

Zac swallowed hard, then nodded. “Alright. See you in two weeks, I guess.”

And that was it.

It wasn’t really an ending, but it was the beginning of the end. Of that I was sure. It _had_ to be. Once we got away from each other for a while, surely we would both see that we didn’t need to keep falling into bed together. Surely Zac would see how insane this thing between us was.

With nothing else left to say to him, I made my way back downstairs and plastered on a fake smile, making sure to say goodbye to all of our various band and crew members who were still partying it up. They were all having a good time, but my night was over. I was ready to, as Shay said, turn over a new leaf.

I called a cab to take me home and waited impatiently for it. If I was going to turn over a new leaf, I wanted to do it right then and there. I was ready for a new Taylor. A better Taylor.

After an excruciatingly long wait, my cab pulled up to the sidewalk and I collapsed into the backseat. It was a fairly long drive to my house. I’d shared an apartment with Zac for a while when we moved back to Tulsa, on the same floor as Ike and Nikki’s apartment, but a few years ago, I decided that I wanted a place of my own. I wanted space. It made me feel like more of an adult to finally have an entire building that I could call mine.

Right then, all I wanted was to walk inside that building, and pass the fuck out.

I wasn’t all that drunk, but the end of tour exhaustion was catching up with me quickly. I just wanted to rest. I tipped the cabbie generously because I couldn’t be bothered to stick around count out change, and then I was inside my house. It was wonderfully quiet. Peaceful.

As I fell into my bed, still wearing everything but my shoes, I could only think one thing.

_Two weeks. Just two weeks._


End file.
